


Taboo

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha John Winchester, Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha!Reader, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Canon, Breeding Kink, Brother/Sister Incest, Character Death, Claiming, Coersion, Daddy Kink, Daughter!Reader - Freeform, Dry Humping, F/M, Forced Sex, Fucking, Hunting, Incest, Knotting, Mating, Non-Consensual, Pack Dynamics, Polyamory, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sex, Sister!Reader, Smut, Winchester!Reader - Freeform, forced conversion, omega!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-04-15 02:19:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 41
Words: 89,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14149806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: When his daughter presents as an Alpha, John isn’t happy, and decides he’ll have to go about getting what he wants in other ways. AU where Sam never left for college, starts in S1. This one’s for the sick and twisted among us. Contains spoilers up to and including S11.





	1. Chapter 1

You always knew you were different- from other people, from your family, from the kids at school- especially when you hit eighteen and didn’t present. Sam and Dean were both strong Alphas, presenting at a normal age, and John was the Alpha of the little pack, dragging you from hunt to hunt. There wasn’t time to build a life; no constants and no friendships. You learned to kiss with a boy who had headgear and lost your virginity to a jock in Tennessee; he told you that you had pretty eyes and then dumped you when he’d gotten his.

You learned that John was overprotective of you, maybe a little more than a father should have been. Dean didn’t like you dating either, and the only one who showed you any compassion was Sam. You were the youngest, after all - your mother was a one night stand, another hunter who’d commiserated with John.

She got herself killed about a year after you were born, and for ten years you’d lived with Bobby Singer. When John found out about you, he took you, insisting that you belonged with your family.

You thought he might be regretting that decision now.

A week before your 20th birthday, you woke up feeling sick. Nausea tore you apart and you spent the entire morning throwing up. When it passed, you felt strange, and when you’d stumbled into the front room of the apartment John had rented, you’d found yourself alone.

Heat like you’d never known had filled you, and you locked yourself in your room, trying to ease the discomfort through any means necessary. Tylenol and whiskey didn’t help, and by the time you’d realized you were experiencing an Alpha rut, you’d been deep in it.

Dean and Sam attempted to coax you from your room, but you told them to leave you alone, telling them you were fine. It worked the first three times until Dean kicked the door in and you realized your rut had triggered his.

You threw the first punch.

John came home the next morning to find you and Dean at each other’s throats, both sporting bruises from fighting with each other, and Sam trying to calm the situation without going into rut himself. He’d pulled you and your brother apart, ordering Dean to take a cold shower and you back to your room. He followed you in, watching you slouch onto the end of the bed, sulking.

“Dad, I’m sorry, I just -”

“You presented,” he interrupted, sighing heavily.

“Yeah,” you replied, putting your head down, avoiding his eyes.

He sucked in a breath and exhaled noisily. “As an Alpha.” You nodded, rubbing your upper left arm with your right hand nervously. John didn’t speak for a moment before he nudged the door with his foot. “That’s unfortunate.”

“It’s just a rut. You guys managed,” you defended, but John chuckled, shaking his head.

“Not what I meant,” he replied, leaning against the wall and folding his arms over his chest. “How old were you when I got you from Bobby’s?”

“Eleven,” you answered, raising an eyebrow. “What does that -”

“And you were a foul-mouthed brat. One hell of a spitfire,” he reminisced. “Then you got older.” His eyes dragged over you in a way he’d never looked at you before and you shuddered against your will. “You were always so eager to please, doing exactly as you were told.” John pushed up from the wall and stalked a little closer. “You grew into such a beautiful young woman, Y/N.”

You swallowed, feeling a little uncomfortable. “Dad, I -”

“But you’re an Alpha,” he cut you off, again and you scowled, getting annoyed with it. “An Alpha’s no good to me, sweetheart.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you shouted, standing up. Sam appeared in the doorway, worried about the shouting, and John held a hand out to him. “So I’m an Alpha, big fucking deal!”

“Sam, go to your room.”

The younger Winchester brother frowned, tilting his head to the side. “But Dean’s in -”

“Go to your goddamn room!” John snapped, and the Alpha undertone made your gut clench. An urge to fight rose in your chest and Sam clearly felt it, too. Ever the obedient son, Sam smothered it down,  turned on his heel, and walked away. John’s eyes were shining as he looked back to you, a grin spreading across his lips. “I don’t need an Alpha,” he stressed, moving closer. “I  _need_  an Omega.”

You stared at him, trying to process the implication of what he was saying. “You’re my father.”

John shrugged. “It’s not illegal if you’re an Omega.”

“It’s illegal to convert an Alpha,” you hissed, backing up away from the bed as John moved in closer. “They outlawed it.” He wasn’t stopping. “Dad, this is wrong! Dean and Sam -”

“Need an Omega just as much as I do,” he growled, and you found yourself in the corner, trapped, his larger frame seeming bigger than ever. “You’re  _supposed_  to be an Omega. You’re built like one. You obey like one.”

“But I’m an Alpha.” You fell into a defensive pose, ready to fight him down, as hopeless as it was. “You’re not touching me.” He didn’t speak; he kept coming closer and you instinctively threw a wild punch. John grabbed your hand, twisting your arm so your body span, and then you were against the wall with your cheek pressed to the plaster.

He was hard when he ground against you, his hot breath on the back of your neck. “No one knows you’ve presented. You’re going to be my Omega. You’re going to take my knot, and Dean’s knot, and Sam’s, and we’re gonna use you over and over. I got no use for an Alpha bitch in this family - but I got plenty of use for a sweet little Omega pussy.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a grunt, trying not to be aroused by his harsh touch or thick-toned words. John Winchester was an attractive man, but he was also your  _father_. The things he was saying sounded like feral breeding, the sort of thing you read about in the tabloids. A father taking his Omega daughter wasn’t unheard of, and wasn’t illegal - a small part of you had thought about what would happen if you presented as Omega.

Assuming you were a Beta, had made an ass out of you.

“Do you really wanna fight me, baby girl?” John murmured, his lips so close to your ear that you could feel the stubble on his chin. “Or do you just want to give in?” His cock twitched in his jeans, against the thin fabric of your sleep shorts. “I can smell how wet you are, you know.”

You had to make one last stand. “Daddy -”

John groaned and you knew you’d lost your internal war. “Say that again,” he commanded, and you sucked in a sharp breath. His fingers were in your hair, tugging your head backward. “Say,” he ground out, “that. Again.”

“Daddy,” you rushed out, whimpering when he pulled your hair again.

Then your face met the wall with bruising force, and you dropped like a stone.


	2. Chapter 2

Daddy issues weren’t a new thing for you. You’d had them your entire life - from the moment you’d figured out that Uncle Bobby wasn’t actually your uncle and that he was in an  _ odd _ line of work. The feeling of inadequacy, realizing that your father didn’t know about you, and that you had an entire family out there somewhere - it was always going to cause problems further down the line.

The first time you touched yourself to the image of your dad was less than three years after he’d picked you up from Bobby’s. His face, his voice… an impressionable young teenage girl who’d never really known her daddy couldn’t tell the difference between the sorts of love she felt.

Sometimes you thought about presenting as an Omega, about John taking you for his own, knotting you, breeding you… the thought usually sent you over the edge.

But you were Alpha.

And yet…

You opened your eyes, finding yourself in the backseat of the Impala, laid across the seat with your head in Dean’s lap. Your half-brother was staring out of the window, his hand resting on your arm, the tips of his fingers just brushing your breast. Almost instantly your nipples hardened in response; the moan that slipped from your lips caught the attention of every male in the car.

“She’s awake,” Dean murmured, his fingers not leaving you.

“Good. We’ll stop for the night soon,” John replied, keeping his eyes on the road. “How’s her fever?”

“Nearly broken,” came the response, and you frowned, attempting to sit up. Pain instantly lanced through your head and Dean tutted, pressing your head back down. “Stay quiet, sweetheart. You gotta rest.”

“Dean -” you choked out in a thick confused voice. His eyes fixed on yours and you wanted to shy away - the intensity of his gaze was too much, burning into you with feelings that your goddamn brother shouldn’t be evoking.

“She okay?” John snapped, and Dean’s head jerked up.

“She’s confused,” Dean grunted, shaking his head. “Probably the sedative.” Your eyes went wide and Dean smirked, stroking your cheek. “She’ll fall asleep again soon.”

John hummed at that, glancing over at Sam, who was reading in the front seat, apparently unfazed by your kidnapping. “She needs to get through rut. Then we can start.”

“You sure about this?” Sam asked, not looking up from his book. “I mean, she  _ is _ our sister. And it’s kinda -”

“We need her,” John growled out, his fingers flexing on the Impala’s wheel. “She’s not supposed to be an Alpha, Sam. She’s a Winchester, she’s an Omega. We’re her pack.”

“She’s an Alpha,” Sam muttered in response, still not looking at his father. John’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything and Sam sighed, putting his book down. “I’m just saying, sometimes conversion doesn’t work. She’s our pack either way, right?”

There was a pause, and you wanted to say something,  _ anything _ , but words wouldn’t form on your heavy tongue. Conversion was a terrifying thought, but at the same time, to be someone’s Omega, to be theirs?

No. This was your father. Your brothers. It was wrong. You were an Alpha. Not an Omega.

John cleared his throat. “You know what happens to Alphas that don’t mate, Sam?” Sam frowned at him, looking over the back seat to Dean who gave him a dark look, still stroking your hair softly. It was calming, soothing, but you weren’t sure if that was just the sedatives talking.

“Yeah,” Sam whispered, looking down at the book in his hands. “Hormonal imbalances, mental impairment, leading to a complete breakdown of all functions. They turn feral. The process usually starts around the age of thirty.”

Dean’s head thunked against the window as he closed his eyes. “He’s doing this for us, Sammy,” he drawled, and you sucked in a breath, holding it.

“I had a mate,” John ground out, his eyes shining with emotion. “I can get through the ruts. But you and Dean…” He sighed, shaking his head. “You don’t have the option of a normal life. Why do you think I went and got her when she was a kid, dragged her into this life? She needed to know. She needed to be the one for both of you.”

There was a heavy silence, then Sam nodded slowly. You released the breath you’d held, squeezing your eyes tightly shut.

“This is a mistake. She’s an Omega.” John focused back on the road, pressing his foot down on the pedal and the Impala pulled away a little faster. “She has to be.”

*****

The house John found was run down, but it had working water and electric, and more importantly, no neighbors for six miles in any direction. It had once belonged to a hunter named Josh, and John had naturally inherited when the man died on a hunt with him.

No one came out here, and it was the best place to bunk down for the time being.

You waited when the car stopped, sitting up when Dean jostled his leg to give you the hint. “Stay here,” he ordered, climbing out of the car and slamming the door. Sam was on his heel, and John followed, none of them sparing you a glimpse.

The earlier discomfort was throbbing through your veins with a pressure that felt like you were going to burst. Everything was tense and hot, and even though the fever had broken, you were still desperate for release. Waiting stretched on for long minutes, until Dean’s door opened again, and John peered down at you.

“You comin’ out willingly, baby girl?”

Sucking in a breath, you forced yourself to look up at him and the crooked smile he wasn’t even trying to hide. Three Alphas could make you submit whether you gave them permission or not. Dean and Sam  _ needed _ this - a normal life was out of the question for them. Sam had given up college dreams and Dean was just happy to have his family together. You’d  _ belong _ . You’d have more purpose being a Winchester as an Omega than you would as an Alpha.

John’s dark eyes watched you mull over the decision, and when you slid across the seat towards him, shaky hands reaching out to drag your body from the car, he grinned from ear to ear. Your legs were weak and  tiredness filled your bones. “I got you,” John promised, sweeping your smaller frame against his chest, taking the weight from your legs. “Sorry about the sedatives, sweetheart,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to your forehead as he used his ass to close the car door.

You hummed in response, clinging to his neck, letting him carry you into the externally dilapidated house. The inside wasn’t so bad and the boys were already taking inventory of what they had and what they needed.

“Did you two pick a room?” John asked, keeping his voice low. Dean glanced up, nodding, and Sam scribbled something else on his list. “Get her some girl stuff. New stuff. Nice stuff, got it?” There were matching nods of agreement from his boys, then he turned around, carrying you towards the stairs. “And get some food.”

They called back to confirm and John started to ascend the steps, holding you tightly against his body. You sheltered in his warmth for a moment, closing your eyes, trying not to think of anything but being safe.

He’d picked the bedroom at the end of the hallway; it was clean with just a bed and a closet, but it was fine for now. The inside of the house looked nothing like the outside - the downtrodden exterior must have been for camouflage purposes. Which made sense if it was a hunter safe house.

John lowered you onto the bed, smoothing your hair down with one hand, giving you that dimpled Winchester smile. “Don’t be scared, baby girl. We’re gonna take care of you, okay?” You nodded weakly, closing your eyes when he bent down to kiss your forehead. “Get some rest. Your rut will finish soon.”

You didn’t have the energy to fight it as the sedatives pulled you back under.


	3. Chapter 3

It was light outside when you woke, opening your eyes to bright sunshine filtering through the window. You were alone, and as you slowly processed the events of the last few days, you wondered why. Why wasn’t John watching you? Or one of the boys?

Weren’t they afraid you would run?

Wait.

Why weren’t you running?

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you stood, shifting uncomfortably as you realized you still had your bra on. Your skin screamed for a shower and you paused in the doorway, eyeing the open bathroom door opposite, the creamy white tiles bouncing light off of the shower cubicle. 

“Goin’ somewhere?” John’s voice made you spin towards him, and you jumped at the sudden noise. He was lounging against the wall down the hall, just beside another open door, which presumably was the room he had claimed.

“Shower,” you blurted out, before clearing your throat and pointing at the bathroom. “I just wanted a shower, D-dad.”

“It’s 5am, baby girl,” he pointed out, and you smiled awkwardly. “You should be asleep.”

You shrugged, rubbing one arm with the other and avoiding his eyes. “I slept all day yesterday. I’m… I’m pretty awake.” John pushed up off the wall, approaching you slowly, and you swallowed at the way he moved. “Dad -”

“Ssh,” he ordered, guiding you back into your room. You waited, unsure of what he was doing, tilting your head in confusion as he moved towards the closet. Opening it up, he gestured to the shelves and hanging items, looking back at you. “Boys went out. We stocked up and got you some things to wear. Clean towels, sheets - anything you need.”

“So… we’re staying here a while?” you asked, hesitant about the idea.

“Yeah,” John affirmed, walking back over to you. “Go take a shower, sweetheart. If you can’t sleep, just come in with me, okay?” You shuddered as his fingers trailed down your arm, trying to remind yourself he was your father. When he moved away, you felt bereft of his presence, and you tried to calm yourself.

Focusing on the closet, you reached up to grab a towel before padding to the bathroom. You closed the door, but didn’t lock it, quickly stripping off the filthy clothes you were wearing. Turning the shower on, the pipes rattled and clunked before hot water came out of the nozzle in a firm spray. You tested it with your hand, trying to ignore the shaking of your fingers, before climbing into the bathtub and dragging the curtain across.

Cleaning yourself made you feel a little better, but your mind was still running with a thousand questions, and you had no answers by the time you got out, towelling yourself off. You dumped your dirty things in the laundry bin by the sink then wrapped the towel around your chest, stepping out of the bathroom.

Your room was opposite and John’s door was still open. Sunlight made patterns along the walls from the window at the end of the hall and you could hear Dean’s snoring from the third bedroom. 

This was a crossroads. The decision was run, or cross the line that your fantasies had hovered on for years.

You didn’t know how long you were stood there, trying to find answers to your future. Striking out on your own as an Alpha was daunting, terrifying even. You’d never hunted alone, you’d never lived alone. You’d always been with Bobby, or John and the boys.

John appeared in the doorway, watching you with his dark eyes, his hands in the pockets of his sweats. You swallowed, lifting your chin high. “I’m scared,” you admitted, meeting his gaze, trying to reconcile the image of your father with the Alpha in front of you.

“Do you really think we’d hurt you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, keeping his body language calm, and you felt a spark of irritation at his apparent forgetfulness.

“You knocked me out,” you replied indignantly, remembering the pain of the wall colliding with your face, and the still tender spot on your forehead. “You kidnapped me. You’re going to -” He cut you off then, and you swallowed down the raw fear in your throat, trying desperately ignore the heat in your belly at his dark look. Your fingers tightened where you held the towel to your chest, clinging to your modesty.

“That was for your own good,” John insisted, raising his hand in a calming gesture. “You were in rut. Your  _ first _ rut. If I hadn’t put you out… you already bruised Dean up somethin’ fierce.”

“I wouldn’t have come willingly,” you stated, giving him a pointed look. “And you need that. To ease your conscience.” John sighed, not meeting your gaze, and you inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. “Are… are the boys… am I really the only option for them?” Your voice lowered to a squeak. “Do they even want me?”

John’s expression softened as he looked at you. “It’s not the first time an Omega would be kept by a parent, or a sibling, Y/N.”

“But I’m not an Omega,” you protested quietly, your throat tight with the conflict in your voice. “And… Dean and Sam… they have -”

“They’re hunters. They’ll always be hunters,” John responded, stepping out from the doorway.

You could feel the tears in your eyes as you stared at him. “That could change. And then… I’m left… I’ll be -”

John was in front of you in a flash, taking hold of your hands. He was so huge, so  _ there _ , and you were only wearing a thin sheet of cotton around your nude body. Nothing had happened yet - he hadn’t even seen you naked, but right there, you felt like he could see all of you, and it carved a hole into your spirit 

He blocked out the entire world when he spoke, and it terrified you. “They won’t. They’re not gonna leave you,” he promised, kissing your knuckles. “I swear it to you, baby girl. If we do this, we do it right.” Your bottom lip was wobbling, but he smiled and dragged the pad of his thumb over it. “We’re not gonna hurt you. We’re gonna love you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Dean and Sam left on a salt and burn three days later. The spook was a state over, and that gave you a few days without them, alone with John. Before they left, they’d been edgy around you, like they still weren’t sure; it wasn’t making your decision any easier.

Converting an Alpha was an old practice, outlawed in pretty much every state. Women were usually the intended convert, as female Alphas weren’t favored and usually ended up alone. The conversion only worked one way-  it would take days for your body to go through the necessary changes even with the hormones John had managed to obtain to assist the change.

You didn’t feel anything for the first few days. You were tired and tense, and you couldn’t sleep. Even climbing into John’s bed, almost like a little child scared of the dark, wasn’t comforting. He wasn’t acting like your father anymore. You struggled to hold your own fantasies in your head, flinching when he was near you, but he maintained that he wouldn’t knot you until the hormones did their job.

And for the change to be complete, they had to force a heat. The best way to do that was with an Alpha in rut.

Dean’s rut from before had run its course and he wouldn’t have another for at least three months. Sam and John were the only option, but forcing a rut was far more dangerous than a heat. And the longer you were left Alpha, the worse it would be for your body to go through the transition.

A week after you’d started, it rained. From the moment you woke up in John’s bed, curled into his chest, surrounded by his arms, it rained. It was the type of rain that clattered onto the roof and tinked against the windows, that caused a drip in the bathroom ceiling that John grumbled at in annoyance.

By lunchtime, John was unbearable and the scent of him was driving you crazy. His rut was close and your body was responding to it in a way you’d never felt.

You were sorting through the laundry when he appeared in the laundry room doorway, eyes almost black, sweating and panting. “Your scent,” he murmured, walking forward to lean against the small folding table between you. “It’s changed.” Your muscles tensed as his low voice made you shiver.

“What?” The word came out as a high-pitched whisper, and John growled, clenching his fingers into the table top.

“You heard me.” He was closer - you could feel the heat coming off of his skin, and your own heartbeat thundered in your ears. “You smell like lavender, honey, whiskey -” John paused and inhaled deeply, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around your arm to pull you closer. “Before, you just smelled like family. Now…” His lips were on your jaw, dragging roughly on your skin, and you whimpered loudly. “You smell like Omega,” he growled.

Your hands were around his arms, clinging to him before you could process it, your body molding to his. “Dad -”

His teeth scraped over your pulse point and you shrieked, jumping backward from him, slamming into the washer. The impact hurt your hip, catching you right on the bone, and almost immediately you burst into tears. John’s entire demeanor changed like a ripple in a pond, and he caught you before you fell. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, it’s okay, it’s okay, baby girl, I got you.”

He smelled safe, still carrying that scent of home that he’d had since the first day you met him. “That hurt,” you complained, rubbing over your hip. John helped you find your balance again, his hands lingering too long on your body, and you made a pathetic little sound. “You’re my father...” you protested weakly, trying to move away from him, from the scent of him that was becoming too intoxicating. “This is wrong.”

“We need you,” John begged, pressing ever closer in the already tiny room. “You’re not an Alpha, Y/N. Can’t you feel that?” He was pressing into your space again, grinding his hips against your belly. Everything was hot and heady, and you groaned when he pushed his knee between your thighs. “Tell me you’re not wet right now, thinking about Daddy’s big Alpha cock inside you.”

You whined at his filthy words, unable to control your pelvis rolling to seek out more friction against his denim covered leg. John smirked, watching your eyes flutter shut. 

“You want that?” he asked, nuzzling against your cheek, dragging his lips over your mouth but not kissing you, yet. “I know you’ve thought about it before. Touching yourself when you think we’re asleep.” You gasped as his hand slammed into the wall behind you, palm flat. His other hand curved around your hip, dragging you harder against his thigh as he moved with you. “Sinking those fingers into soft, wet warmth. Did you think about it being my fingers, baby girl?”

This time, you moaned, almost choking on the sound as John picked up a rhythm, dry humping you against the wall. Guilt and horror filled you knowing that he knew, that he’d heard you whimper and mewl when you came apart thinking about his fingers in your soaked cunt instead of your own. 

“Or was it one of your brothers? You know Dean jerks off to pictures of you?” he commented, watching the expression on your face change. “You were meant to be ours, Y/N. We’re your pack - your family.” The hand on your hip slid up to your breast, cupping it fully. “Just a shame we can’t breed you,” John smirked, “cause you’d look so pretty all round with pups.”

You couldn’t help it. A keening sound tore from your lips, and you came, grinding on your father’s leg like a whore. John grinned as he watched, twisting your nipple through your bra. 

“Good girl,” he praised, as you opened your eyes wide, panting heavily. You could feel the slick in your panties, how wet you were for him and you knew you were completely lost. “Go to your room and clean up. I’ll make us something to eat.” He didn’t release you from his hold just yet, leaning in to whisper in your ear. The words made you stumble when he finally let you go.

“You’re going into heat. I’m going to knot you, and keep knotting you, until you’re mine.”


	5. Chapter 5

His words kept echoing in your head as you stood in the shower, letting the too-hot water turn your skin a darker shade. You were panting heavily, eyes closed with the fingers of your right hand buried between your thighs.

It wouldn’t go away.

The white hot pressure that made your cunt throb with need. The agonizing want for something to fill you until it hurt. The small tense clenches of your pussy around your own fingers that just weren’t enough. It was like a hunger you’d never felt, and it left your throat dry no matter how many times you gasped and swallowed the spray.

You didn’t know how long you’d stood there, trying over and over to reach even a fifth of the feeling John’s goddamn  _thigh_  had encouraged in your bones. You could remember it, you could taste it, but you couldn’t fucking reach it.

What had he done to you?

Your clit was sore, throbbing, and you cried out in frustration, banging your fists against the wall. Dry sobs tore from your throat, bouncing off the tiles to drown out all the sound around you.

The door opened.

You didn’t move when the curtain was pulled back, or when John’s eyes landed on you, concern flashing through his expression. His hands circled your waist and he tugged you backward, showing no care for his clothes as he pulled you into his arms.

“Sssh,” he soothed, turning the shower off and bending to pick you up, carrying you out of the bathroom and turning down the hall to his room.

The comforting scent of Alpha surrounded you as John laid you on the soft mattress, abandoning you for only a second to grab a towel. You didn’t speak when he started to dry you down, until his huge hand glided over your lower belly and you snatched at his wrist, stopping him. His head jerked up and he waited, his wrist relaxed in your hold.

Slowly, you pushed his hand down until the tips of his fingers were brushing against your mound. His pupils dilated and he lifted one knee to get a better balance on the bed.

“Please…” you whispered, tears catching on your lashes. “Daddy, I need it.” John groaned, his eyes rolling in his head, and you gave his wrist a squeeze. The tip of his index finger brushed your clit and your entire body went tense. You released his hand and spread your thighs a little more. “Please…”

John nodded, moving his hand lower, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud, keeping his gaze on your face. Your lips were slightly parted and your eyes fluttered shut as you let yourself coast on pleasure, and John’s mouth twitched in a smile. “That’s it, baby girl.”

“More,” you begged, thrusting your hips up into his touch.

His smile blossomed as he slid one thick digit between your folds, watching your reaction when he pushed his finger into you, pumping it a few times to coat his skin in your slick. You were writhing, now, still not sated, but John rumbled low in his chest, his free hand palming at the bulge in his soaked pants. “Omega,” he growled, using his knees to move closer to you. “You want more, princess?”

You nodded, barely able to keep your eyes open. He pushed two fingers against your soaked entrance and started to fuck them into you, curling them at just the right spot to make your back arch more and more with each stroke. The only word on your lips was a resounding “yes” which escalated in pitch with each repetition, and John grew closer and closer to snapping.

The scent of your heat was getting stronger every second, and John was so hard he could feel the zipper of his pants biting into his erection, making him grit his teeth in frustration. But he couldn’t knot you yet. This was only the start.

Your body tightened around him, and John urged you on, finding that soft, sweet bundle of nerves tucked tight inside. Lightning seemed to fill your belly, then the pressure released along with a loud cry from your lips that John swallowed down with a kiss- your first kiss. It felt silly considering this was your second orgasm with him, but his lips on yours was infinitely more intimate than anything else he’d given. Your brows knit together, hands clinging to his neck as you whimpered and kissed him with as much as you had in you to give. You could feel the wet underneath you, and you were unsure if it was from the shower or from the climax your father had just pushed you to.

Suddenly, you recoiled, shame warring with the post-orgasm bliss. John withdrew his hand, staring at you with something entirely new filling his eyes. It was too much, and you snatched the towel, covering yourself as much as you could.

“You feel it, don’t you?” John rumbled, moving off of the bed to kneel on the floor with his elbows on the bed, and you went still, looking straight at him.

“I don’t know what “it” is,” you replied, shivering. He reached over and you flinched. His fingers curled around the blanket behind you, tugging it until it covered you completely.

“You’ll figure it out,” he promised, laying his hand across your cheek. “You’re safe here, baby girl. You know that.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?” you whispered, blinking away fresh tears. “Why didn’t you just ask me instead of drugging me?”

John sighed, taking his hand away and remaining silent for a few seconds. “Would you really have agreed to this?” he countered, and you opened your mouth to immediately reply before you realized you didn’t have anything to say against it. You wouldn’t have said yes.

“And if I still said no now?” you asked.

He hesitated, before shaking his head a little and looking up. “Dean and Sam need you. I need to save my boys.” You frowned - was this just about them? “But it isn’t just that. I always felt different about you. I don’t know if it was because you were already so grown up when I found you, but it was different. Wrong, maybe. And when I thought of you growin’ up and getting out there, hunting on your own?” He took your hand, giving you a rueful little smile. “Your mom was Alpha. It got her killed. I need you safe. I need you with me.”

You swallowed, contemplating his words. “Being a Winchester isn’t safe, John. What happens if -” The sentence wouldn’t come out.

There was a moment of quiet, before he stood up, bending to kiss your forehead- God, you wished it was your lips. “Get some rest, baby girl.”

*****

The room grew darker as you lay there, trying to sort out your messy thoughts and the images that you shouldn’t have been conjuring. John’s touch still warmed your skin from earlier - it was getting harder and harder to think of him as your father. A lined had been blurred , and it wasn’t going back to normal any time soon.

You wanted him.

You wanted Daddy Winchester in a way that sliced through your chest with physical pain, like an addict in need of a hit. The echo of pleasure from what he’d done to you earlier was agony, teasing you with the thought of what it could be like to have John Winchester knot you and claim you.

Your thighs were sticky, so you rolled over, using the towel to clean up, trying not to touch your swollen pussy. Even now, you could feel the clench of your muscles, hungrily grasping for something that wasn’t there.

The floor was cold when you placed your feet on it, and you spotted a t-shirt poking out from underneath the bed. Your fingers hooked it from where it rested and you pulled it on, folding your arms over your chest as you climbed onto unsteady legs.

It was like walking through syrup.

John’s scent was thick in the air, making you drowsy, pheromones doing exactly as they were intended. The agonizing throb of need was still there, getting you high on arousal and blind to everything else.

You weren’t sure how you made it down the stairs, but the television was on in the front room. John was lounging in a chair, watching something on the television, but you couldn’t hear it. The slant of the chair blocked his sight of you, and you paused, suddenly seeing what he was doing.

He wasn’t watching the show.

His pants were undone and his cock was in his huge hand, thick and long. It curved slightly in his hold and the tip glistened with precum, staining the reddened skin white. John hissed as he dragged his hand up to his mouth, licking his palm before taking hold of his cock again.

“Y/N…” His voice startled you, and you backed up a little on the steps, pressing yourself against the wall. But he hadn’t seen you - he was  _thinking_  about you. The flickering light of the television showed you every single stroke of his fingers around his pulsating length, and you wet your lips with your tongue.

What would he feel like, inside?

Would his knot hurt?

You’d only slept with Betas, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen a dick that size. John was apparently all Alpha, and fear started to seep into your arousal, although you were stuck, unable to tear your eyes away. His thumb grazed over the tip of his swollen cock and it twitched in his hand.

A gasp nearly made you choke, but you still couldn’t look away. The memory of his fingers filling you earlier, the fantasy of his Alpha knot filling you up, and the repeated reminder from the rational part of your brain all screamed at you.

You wanted him.

He wanted you.

He was supposed to be your father. Your parent.

_I need you safe. I need you with me._

John grunted your name again, the base of his cock swelling rapidly as he got closer, and you locked your eyes on his fingers as he jerked off. His climax was swift and messy, leaving a wet stain on the front of the shirt he’d been wearing earlier when he pulled you from the shower. It was probably covered in your scent.

His body went slack as his dick pulsed the last few spurts of cum onto his belly, and for a moment, he sat there, one hand holding his persistent erection, the other draped over the back of the chair. You swallowed, backing up the stairs, still aroused, still frightened, and still very confused.

You retreated back to the bed, curling up in the shirt that smelled like Alpha, trying to calm down. By the time John came upstairs, following the fresh smell of your arousal to his bed, you were asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Waking up was a startling experience. Outside the bedroom window, the sun was already high in the sky, and you could feel warmth pressed against your back. John was awake already, his lips against your neck, mumbling promises into your skin.

You weren’t frightened- that alone confused you. You turned to face him, very aware of the fact that you were only wearing a thin tee and inches away from him. It was impossible to tell if John was naked, but lifting up the covers to check wouldn’t exactly be subtle.

“Why me?” you asked with a neutral expression. John’s eyebrows knit together. “No, I need to know. I need to know why it couldn’t be some other -” Your words caught in your throat. “Some Omega who didn’t know. Who was already Omega?”

“You know why it had to be you,” he replied, watching your face as you tried to figure it out. “I needed someone strong. Someone in the life already. Someone… I needed a Winchester. And you’re mine, baby girl.”

“Does Uncle Bobby know?” you whispered, knowing how Bobby felt about John. They hadn’t really spoken in years, and you hadn’t seen the older man in years. “Did he…”

“He wouldn’t have let me bring you home,” John explained. “He had his concerns, about having you on the road. But I knew… if you’d been an Omega, this would have been so much easier.” His fingers were stroking your face now. “You’re strong enough for this. You’re a damn good hunter, Y/N.”

“And what about what _I_  wanted?” you demanded, your emotions getting the better of you. “What if I wanted normal? What if I wanted out? You’ve taken that away from me.” John’s expression grew amused and he chuckled softly, which made you slap his hand away from your face. “It’s not funny. You’ve kidnapped me, drugged me… you  _touched_  me.”

“You never asked me to stop,” John growled, shifting closer. His hand disappeared under the cover, then his fingers were smoothing over your bare hip. “You begged me to touch you, sweetheart.” His thumb brushed down, just shy of the crease where your hip met your pelvis.

A shudder of arousal went through you. “If I told you to stop…”

“You’re not going to,” he interrupted, leaning even closer. “You know this is right, princess.” His scent was clouding your mind, your body reacting while your mind tried to give you a thousand reasons to stop you. But it wasn’t enough. John’s touch was warming you all over, and he nudged up until he was flush with your body.

He was naked and hard, his body against yours making you whine pathetically.

“Tell me it doesn’t feel good, baby girl. You’re safe with me. You’ll always be safe with me.” His lips grazed your cheek. “Are you scared of me?” You sucked in a breath, closing your eyes as you shook your head. The fear wasn’t of him, it was of what you knew was going to happen. “Then why are you shaking?”

“What if…” you paused, finding your own question stupidly high on your list of concerns. Really, your top worry should be that you were going to get fucked by your own father, but the insecurity won out. “What if I’m  _not_  strong enough? Not good enough. Sam and Dean could have any Omega, they don’t wanna be stuck with…”

John silenced you with a kiss, stealing your breath away. “Touch me,” he whispered, “feel how hard I am for you, sweetheart.” You didn’t move, so he took your hand, guiding your fingers to his thick erection. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to have you like this? To be able to touch you?” He groaned when your fingers tightened. “Do what you want. I don’t want you to be frightened of me.” You hesitated, just holding his cock in your fingers, feeling his pulse through his skin. “Felt so wrong for so long,” John added, and you moved your hand, stroking him once, eliciting a deep moan from him. “Tell me this doesn’t feel right, Y/N. You were meant for this.”

You didn’t say anything, watching his face as you stroked him again, experimenting by swiping your thumb over his cockhead, feeling the sticky slick of precum on your skin. John’s eyes fluttered shut for a split second, and his teeth snagged his bottom lip, pride surging through your chest at the fact that you’d caused the expression.

“I’m not a virgin,” you informed him, feeling a little smug.

His reaction was instant. His eyes snapped open wide and he snarled, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to drag you in for a harsh kiss. You yelped into his mouth at the sudden move, feeling a complete loss of power as he pushed you into the bed, rutting his cock into your hand.

“I don’t ever wanna hear that another man put their hands on you,” he ordered, and you swallowed, nodding dumbly. Alpha fury was coming off of him in waves, and you spread your legs, arching up against him as your arousal insistently throbbed in your veins. “You’re  _ours_ , Y/N. You’re a Winchester, you belong with Winchesters.”

Your fingers still held his cock where he was thrusting his hips against you, dragging the thick column of flesh through your fingers, and you wished he would just take you. The need was unbearable.

“You gotta say it,” he almost begged. “You  _know_  you’re ours. You can feel it.” His weight lifted from you a little, allowing you to take back control of your hand on him. “Tell me you’ve never thought about this.”

There was no point in lying. “I have,” you breathed, and John smiled widely, leaning into you.

You closed your eyes, still moving your hand on him, in time with the pulsing low in your belly. The thought of him, taking you, knotting you - it wouldn’t leave your mind. Rational thought didn’t care that he was supposed to be your father. It didn’t care that he’d forced your change, given you this uncontrollable need to please him.

“You said you won’t breed me,” you gasped, unsure why you even cared.

John hummed, palming your breast through the shirt you’d stolen. “It’s not an ideal life for pups, Y/N,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Don’t get me wrong, the thought of filling you up, breeding that sweet little cunt…”

“What if… what if I wanted it?” you asked, the words cracking on your dry tongue. You licked your lips, trying to work up some moisture. He didn’t reply. “I want you to breed me, Daddy.” John groaned, closing his eyes as you rolled against him, pushing him onto his back and getting onto your knees, not stopping the steady movement of your hand on his cock.

“Baby girl, what are you -”

His eyes rolled back in his head when you bent and licked the precum from his slit, tasting his salty essence on your tongue. Flames burned harder in your belly, and you straddled his knees, sliding your lips down over the flared head of his cock, and John’s fingers curled in the bedsheets.

It tickled the back of your throat when you took him deeper, using your tongue to feel every vein and bump. His nails were scraping against the fabric of the sheets and he’d tilted his head back, jutting his chin into the air. Your name left his lips over and over and you felt a sick sense of pride that he was like this because of you.

This big, strong hunter, wanted you. Part of you knew it should matter than John had taken you unwillingly, that he was your father, but the other part only cared about one thing. You were Omega, now, and he was Alpha.

“That’s it, kitten,” John murmured, gasping as you kept moving up and down on his cock. “Fuck, gonna cum in that pretty little throat of yours.” His fingers slid through your hair, holding you in place as he shifted his hips, fucking up into your mouth. You splayed your hands over his hips, your eyes watering when his cock swelled in your throat.

When he came, you swallowed as much as you could, your slender fingers around the knot at the base of his cock that throbbed with each spurt of cum.

You dragged yourself away, sputtering for breath with John’s spendings splattered over your chest and fingers, staining the black shirt. John was watching you, red faced and panting, and you pulled your fingers away from his cock, making him flinch.

“Still think you’re not meant to be here?” he asked, raising himself up on his elbows. You sat there on his legs, the taste of him in your mouth and the warmth of him in your belly, not moving. John smiled, reaching forward to pluck at your shirt. “Take this off.”

Avoiding the stickiness on the front, you obeyed, pulling his shirt off of your skin, surprised to find your body covered in a sheen of sweat. There was a complimentary hum from John as he watched you strip, his hands tugging your hips forward until he had you in his lap.

His cock was still hard, pressed up against your pussy, and god, you wanted him.

“Goddamn, baby girl. So hot and wet,” he praised, sliding his hands up your thighs as you started to rock against him. Every stroke brought his cockhead tight against your clit and you whimpered loudly, needing more. “That’s it, take what you want. Get yourself off on Daddy’s big Alpha cock.”

You gasped, leaning forward to hold your balance with your hands either side of his head. John took the opportunity to kiss you again, one big hand wrapping around the back of your head as you kept writhing on his cock, moving faster and faster. The remainder of his cum mixed with your slick, creating a sloppy mess between you, but it only allowed you to pick up speed until you were crying and begging to cum.

“You wanna cum so bad, don’t you princess?” John purred, forcing you to look at him with both hands on your face. “Talk to me,” he ordered softly, and you nodded, gasping for breath,

“Wanna come on your cock, Daddy,” you sobbed, nodding your head as he held it.

“Come on, kitten,” he urged, “you can cum for me.”

Your entire body shuddered as you felt the dam break - almost literally. Slick coated his thighs and yours as you wailed out you release into his chest; you clung to him through every last aftershock, until your smaller frame was shaking in his hold.

John kissed the top of your head, laying one hand against your back, just where your heart was beating too fast in your chest. You were sweating, overheated, and exhausted. “It’s okay, baby girl,” he assured, gently pulling you onto the bed before dragging the sheets over you. “This will all be over soon.”

You nodded, unable to keep your eyes open. John tucked you into the blankets, pausing to watch you for a minute. The heat had taken hold of you now, and it took everything in him not to knot you right there and then.

He had to be patient. The last thing he wanted was to make you run.


	7. Chapter 7

Raised voices woke you, and your eyes saw the window as they opened. It wasn’t raining anymore; the sun was beginning to break through the clouds, making shadows on the floor. You blinked, sitting up, only to groan when cramps rolled through your belly.

The memory of exactly what you’d done last night crawled into the forefront of your mind and you forgot how to breathe. Your fingers touched your lips absently as you remembered the taste of your father’s thick cock on your tongue and his cum in your throat, but above all, the way he’d been so patient with you.

He hadn’t knotted you.

Why hadn’t he knotted you?

The voices caught your attention again and you slipped from the bed, frowning when you didn’t see any of John’s shirts laying around. Someone shouted downstairs, making you jump before moving towards the door and out into the hallway. Zipping to your room, you grabbed a shirt and some sweats, throwing them on and growling in frustration as the fabric caught on your sweaty skin.

You didn’t bother with socks or shoes, only running your fingers through your hair to comb some of the knots out. Tiptoeing down the hallway back towards John’s room, you passed it and headed down the stairs.

John was in the kitchen, joined by Dean and Sam. You could just about see them from the top of the stairs, bending down to peek through the staircase rails.

“Goddamnit, Dad,” Sam was huffing, running a hand through his messy hair. He looked wrecked, like he hadn’t slept in days. “We have other options.”

“She’s already in transition. Full blown heat,” John replied, sipping at the cup of coffee in his hands. He was barefoot, wearing pyjama pants and a wife beater, while the boys looked like they’d just got in. They were back early, and that made you worry. “You know how this works. If she doesn’t get an Alpha’s claim soon, she’s going to get sick. Conversion needs to be seen through.”

“Sam, she’s ours. She’s always been ours,” Dean muttered, shaking his head.

Sam gave his brother a look that was halfway between a scowl and a smile. “No, she’s always been  _yours_ , Dean. You’re the one who fucked up that jock she slept with and threatened any guy who looked her way. Let’s face it, you never saw her as your half-freakin’-sister.”

“Nothing we’ve done here is anything that hasn’t been done before,” John said slowly. “She needs  _us_ , Sam. How do you think she would have survived as an Alpha? Her and Dean were ready to kill each other -”

“If you’d given them a day or two they probably would have fucked,” Sam spat back.

“Is this a jealousy thing?” Dean snapped, holding out his arms. “Because she didn’t look at you like she did me? Or because it wasn’t your name she kept crying out in her sleep?”

Sam’s expression turned murderous at his brother’s snark, and John placed a hand on his chest, putting his coffee down. “Sammy, calm down. This isn’t going to work if we’re at each other’s throats. You get to put your mark on her, just like we do.” He watched his son for a moment, frowning. “Is it that you don’t want to share?”

“No, it’s not -” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Dad, she’s my little sister. I love her more than anything, and I wanna keep her safe... but I don’t wanna force her into something just because I  _might_  not ever find someone.” He shrugged, at a loss. “She’s ours, I know that.”

“And what if you did find another Omega? You gonna tell them about hunting?” John pressed, folding his arms across his chest. “You gonna fuck ‘em through heats, go off and then come back when the itch needs scratchin’? Lie to them constantly?”

“No, I -”

Dean reached out touching Sam’s shoulder. “Sam…” His eyes drifted beyond his brother, catching your eye through the bannister. “You okay, darlin’?” Sam turned his head, seeing you, and you darted back, sitting on the steps, listening to the pad of booted feet coming through the hallway to stand at the bottom of the stairs. Dean looked up at you, tilting his head to the side. “Y/N?”

“Sam doesn’t want me,” you whispered, sagging on the step, feeling like a small, dejected child.

Dean’s forehead creased into a frown and he walked up the few steps to stop beside you. “He doesn’t mean it like that.” His hand cupped your cheek and you turned teary eyes on him. “He’s just worried that -”

“I wanna do this,” you whispered, blinking the tears away. Instead, they caught on your lashes, lingering on the thin hairs. “He doesn’t have to worry. Daddy… John showed me.” Your cheeks flushed with color, and Dean smiled. “I know I’ll be safe,” you added.

“Yeah,” Dean acknowledged, leaning in. His lips were softer than his father’s and he didn’t have the scruff on his chin that scratched at your skin, but it was still pleasant, still evoked more emotion and heat in your lower belly than a kiss from Dean should have. He moaned softly against your mouth, darting his tongue between your lips to stroke yours, and the two of you got lost in your first real kiss for a moment that you wanted to stretch on for forever..

“Dean,” John’s voice prompted your older sibling to pull back, his pupils dilated and a shy smile on your mouth at the way John eyed you, looking something between proud and aroused. “Take Y/N upstairs for a little while,” he ordered, giving you a soft smile from where he stood at the bottom of the steps. Sam was beside him, watching you with those puppy dog eyes. “I need to talk to Sam.”

You looked back at Dean who tugged you back up the stairs towards your bedroom. The voices downstairs faded as the front door opened and closed, and soon it was just you and Dean.

“Do you feel like this is wrong?” you asked, cocking your head as Dean moved to close the curtains, drowning the room in shadows. “I mean, I don’t, but do you?”

“I’m a little freaked out by the “Daddy” thing,” Dean quipped, walking back over to you, reaching out to run his hands over the top of your arms. “I don’t have to call him that, right?” You slapped at his shoulder, prompting him to laugh. “No, I don’t feel like this is wrong. There’s no law against taking an Omega that’s related to you.”

“There’s laws against conversion, now,” you replied, keeping eye contact with him.

“Not here,” Dean informed you. “We’re in Georgia-few miles north of Atlanta- and Georgia Law doesn’t prohibit conversion.” You stared at him blankly, and he realized you hadn’t even thought to ask where you were. “Dad never told you that?” A shake of your head made him sigh. “Dad… he’s right. Fuck, the minute I popped a fucking knot, I knew I wanted you. Why do you think I kept picking fights?”

You swallowed, leaning back a little. “I thought you hated me because I had a different mom.”

Dean laughed, shaking his head. “Y/N, I’ve thought about touching, about fucking you- I’ve jerked off so many times to- to-” Dean rambled, all breath that couldn’t escape in the form of any full sentence- “Y/n... You’re my fuckin’ wet dream.” His hands were sliding down your arms, taking hold of your fingers. “That day you went into rut, and I thought I might never get to have you…” Dean was closer now, and you could barely breathe.

“Dean,” you whimpered, letting him surround you with his touch, his lips pressed against yours. “Dean…”

“Yeah?”

“Wanted you too,” you whispered, nuzzling into him. He groaned, sliding his fingers through your hair to tug gently. “Want you now.”

He smirked at that, looking down. “As much as I’d love to have you squirming on my knot, I promised Dad. He’s in control of this thing. Not me. And he’s… he’s the big Alpha.” He kissed you, quick and chaste. “Dad knows what he’s doing, okay? You’re safe here.”

You nodded, smiling as Dean pulled you into an embrace, resting his chin on top of your head. His scent filled your senses and you tried not to think about the heat of your skin, the thundering of your heart, or the throbbing between your thighs.

Slipping out of his grasp, you dropped to your knees, and Dean blinked down at you in confusion. “Daddy said you couldn’t knot me,” you murmured seductively, unbuckling his pants. “But he didn’t say we couldn’t do anything else, right?”

Dean groaned when your fingers dragged his belt off, unbuttoning enough of his pants to free his cock from his boxers. He was hard, thick and curved, not quite as long as John was, but still well-endowed. You licked your lips, looking up at your brother as you sank your mouth down around him, hollowing your cheeks as you took him in.

“Oh, fuck,” he choked out, one hand in your hair as he tipped his head back in pure bliss. “Oh, God. Y/N, fuck, baby…” You smiled at the praise, closing your eyes to focus on what you were doing. Your hands were on his thighs, dragging his pants down a little more, allowing you access to his balls. Trailing one finger down and underneath them, you felt Dean’s legs tense, and he made a low sound that kept going when you pressed down on the sweet little spot behind his sac.

He was close to cumming already, the taste of his last rut still clinging to his skin. His scent was different to John’s - not quite a musky, but thick with gunpowder, whiskey and cinnamon. It was the same warmth though, the part they all shared.

“Y/N, I’m gonna cum, sweetheart, fu - uck!” Dean was panting now, huffing little breaths as his cock twitched between your lips. “Oh, fuck, Y/N, I -” You weren’t pulling away, and Dean practically howled as he came down your throat, coating your tongue with his sticky seed. He whined when you licked him clean, and then pulled away to tuck himself back in his pants. His knot was swollen, and he winced at the tightness of his pants.

You got to your feet, watching him closely. He was still breathing heavily, trying to catch up with his own body. “Are you okay?”

He swallowed, turning his head to side, exhaling hard. “I’ve… fuck, thought I was gonna pass out,” he groaned, standing straight. His hand snagged the waistband of your pants and he pulled you flush against him, capturing your lips, tasting himself on your tongue. “I wish Dad would let me take you first,” Dean lamented, holding your face between his hands.

“Dean!” John’s voice shouted up the stairs as if he’d heard his son’s words. You pulled back and Dean looked down at the floor, his cheeks red.

“Come on, we better go back downstairs. Hope Sam’s figured his shit out,” Dean muttered, taking your hand and leading you towards the hall.


	8. Chapter 8

There was a tension in the house that seemed to be centered around Sam. Whatever John had said to him, he was in a mood, and you took it upon yourself to try and pull him out of the funk. Dean and John went to deal with some funny noise the Impala was making and you cajoled Sam into doing the dishes.

You worked in silence, Sam washing and you drying, until he started to speak. “How can you be okay with this?” he blurted out, scrubbing furious at a pot like it was to blame for everything. “You’re my little sister. I… I don’t understand -”

The truth was, you didn’t have an answer. Part of you wasn’t okay with it and probably never would be, reminding you that this was your father and brothers. Two of whom you’d already engaged in incestuous activities with, so why weren’t you feeling dirty?

“It feels right,” you whispered, staring at a spot on the tiled backsplash behind the sink. “You’re my pack, my family.”

“And what about your future? You could have found someone, fallen in love, had…” Sam swallowed, submerging his hands again. “Had pups,” he finished, not looking at you. “You could have had normal.”

“Normal was  _your_  dream, Sam. Not mine,” you replied, picking up a mug to dry it. “And you can still have that. You can walk away, leave us. I’ll be fine with John and Dean.”

“Since when do you call him John?” Sam asked bluntly, and you looked down at the mug, wondering why Dean had decided to restock the cupboard with cutesy little animal mugs. This one was a pug.  _A pug mug. Heh_. You smiled at your own joke, and Sam sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I still want normal.” He looked up, staring out of the kitchen window where his father and brother were working on the car. “College was an option before, but now… “ His eyes dropped down to the sink. “Things are different, now.”

“Is it me?” you asked, unsure of yourself. Your eyes stung with emotion. “You don’t want… you don’t want me?”

Sam turned, a shocked expression on his face. “No, don’t- don’t think like that. This is my problem, not yours. If this feels right to you, then I can’t change that. I just need to decide if it feels right for me.” He pulled his hands out of the water, coming closer to you. Suds on his thumb tickled your skin when Sam touched your cheek, smiling softly. “Because if I do claim you, like them, I’m gonna struggle not to want  _everything_.”

“Everything?”

His meaning was clear, and something hollowed out a space in your chest and crawled in there, taking up permanent residence. Sam nodded, and dipped his head, kissing the corner of your mouth softly and quickly, withdrawing before you could respond. “Don’t think it’s you, Y/N. It’s me wanting too much, and Dad… Dad isn’t sure it’s a good thing to think about.”

You nodded, looking down at the floor, before moving back closer to him. Pushing up on tiptoes, you placed your hands on his shoulders, staring into his eyes as you moved your fingers up to thread them through his hair. “I want that, Sam. I already told him.” He blinked as you pressed your lips against his fully, letting the kiss linger enough for Sam to feel it warm his blood. “I’d do it, Sam. I’d do it for you.”

“Fuck,” he murmured, surrounding you with his arms and kissing you breathless. You moaned into his mouth, deepening the kiss before the back door opened and had you both springing apart. Dean was in the doorway with a grin on his face that showed teeth. Clearly, the eldest brother wasn’t bothered about sharing.

“Atta boy,” he commented, winking in your direction. The tips of Sam’s ears went red and you smiled, taking his hand. “I knew you’d come around.” You weren’t sure Sam had entirely made his decision, but he seemed a little more open. Your own anxiety was calmed by his touch - for some reason, the thought of Sam’s rejection had hurt more than you assumed it would.

Cramps distracted you, taking you completely off guard. With a nasty grimace you were clutching at your belly.  Sam noticed instantly, touching your shoulder. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t do anything but cry out as the pain intensified. Dean frowned, darting forward, grunting when he caught the scent of your heat. “She’s getting deeper into heat. Which means -”

“You two should probably get cold showers,” John growled, walking in through the backdoor. Dean and Sam immediately stood back, allowing their father to sweep you off of your feet, cradling you to his chest. His entire body thrummed with energy and his skin was just as sweaty as yours. “We can’t leave this any longer, baby girl,” he muttered, carrying you towards the stairs.

You mumbled something at him, waiting for the pain to pass. His scent distracted you, and for a moment, it was different than it had ever been. It was your favorite smell in the whole world, thick and overwhelming, stronger than you thought was possible, and it flooded you as it wafted off of John, making you close your eyes and breathe it in. The warmth of his body seeped into yours and the agony seizing your nerves twisted and heated into something primal, something you couldn’t control no matter how hard you tried. Need like you’d never known before burned through your belly, shot through your veins  like  lightning bolts, drawing sounds from you that had John tightening his hold on you when you began to squirm in his arms.. He never let go, just took you up the stairs and straight into his bedroom where he kicked the door shut.

“I got you,” he assured you, laying you down on the bed and tugging your sweats down. You kicked your feet, trying to get the confining fabric off, before your fingers grabbed for John’s pants, desperate for him and choking on your own breath. He groaned, tackling your hands. “Calm down, Omega,” he ordered, and the title made you literally swoon like a 15th Century maiden.

Pheromones seemed to have a habit of reducing you to a quivering pile of sex-starved jello.

John stripped methodically, fisting his own cock as he looked down at you, pointing at your shirt. “Off,” he commanded, and you quickly dragged the shirt over your head. “Can’t believe I’m finally gonna get to take you, princess,” he grunted, nuzzling into your neck before using his knees to part your thighs. “Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my knot, full of my cum.”

That snapped you from your haze and you placed your hands on his chest. “Wait… I thought -”

He grinned, shaking his head. “If you want me to, I can… but if you want me bare… the thought of filling you with pups is making me hard as fucking steel, baby girl.” You whimpered, feeling the tip of his cock nudge your hole, and you wanted him bare inside you. “Tell me,” he whispered, running his lips over your hard nipples before sucking one into his mouth and using his tongue to stimulate it to full hardness. “Tell Daddy you want his cum filling your belly.”

“Uhh,” you swooned, lifting your knees. The movement let his dick fall heavily against your pussy, the fat head almost pressed inside you. You squirmed your hips, trying to get more, but John held fast.

“Tell me,” he ordered again.

“Please, Daddy,” you pouted, gripping his shoulders with your hands. “I need your knot, need your cum filling me up.” It felt like you were going to hell and loving the flames along the way.

John pushed into your body and the stretch burned like you were going to split in two in the best possible way. There was a chance your eyes crossed as your father’s thick Alpha cock opened you up, not stopping until it felt like he was going to break right through your cervix and fill your womb. He ground his teeth together as he tried to hold his composure, the tightness of your pussy sucking at him almost too much.

You were panting heavily, swallowing down lungfuls of air that didn’t ease the burning in your chest, and John held still, watching your face as the pleasure overtook the pain. His cock twitched inside of you and you gasped. “Oh!” It was such a feminine sound that John smiled at it.

“You okay?” he asked, brushing his nose along the curve of your breast, and you nodded, unable to articulate the things you were feeling. “Good.” He rolled his hips and you cried out at the feeling of his cock fully inside you, the rim of his knot catching on your entrance when he pulled out again. “Is it too much for you, baby girl?”

You could hear the smile in his voice, and you gasped as his cock hit your cervix again making your entire body sing with pleasure.

“You’re so tight around my cock,” John murmured, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, slowly thrusting into you with shallow strokes. “So wet and slick for me, princess. You like Daddy’s cock buried inside you, filling you up?”

All you could do was nod and bite your lip so hard it nearly bled. John watched your face as he kept rocking into you with hard thrusts, only pulling out an inch or two. You were still adjusting to his size, barely able to keep your eyes open for the intense pleasure of having him so deep inside you.

“Fuck, I wanna cum,” he groaned, pausing and leaning his forehead against your breast. You panted, unable to stop yourself from clenching around him. “Wanna knot you so bad, baby girl, you’ve no idea.”

“Please, Daddy,” you mewled, tugging on his short hair as his cock twitched in response to your tightening pussy. “Want you to cum inside me.” Your voice fell to a whisper and John raised dark eyes to look at you. “Want your knot inside me. Fuck me.” You paused to inhale and warmth flooded your core. “Alpha,” you added, and John’s entire aura changed.

His eyes almost glowed with primal lust, and he pulled out entirely, forcing you onto your belly with your ass in the air. He wasted no time lining up and slamming into your sore cunt, making you scream into the pillows and clutch at them desperately.

“Gonna knot you, Omega,” he snarled, his fingers gripping your hips tightly, leaving red finger marks on your sweaty skin. “Fill you up with Alpha cock, over and over.” You wanted to scream the word yes, the word no, and everything in between, but he felt so good inside you.

Alpha.

It didn’t matter what had come before.

Fear was swept aside by overwhelming pleasure as John pulled you up by the arms, fucking up into you harder and harder as he left marks on your neck, sucking dark bruises into the skin. You could feel his knot swelling more and more, making it hurt every time he forced it into your body, until he couldn’t pull out. The pain was minimal, eclipsed by your climax when he sank his teeth into your neck and left a permanent mark on your skin, the feel of his cock and cum inside you, and his teeth biting into your skin pulling you apart atom by atom and searing into your DNA.

Minutes ticked by and John held you against his chest, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you shuddered and let stray tears slip from your eyes. You were soaked with sweat and cum, bruises spreading across your skin from his rough touch, and yet… you’d never felt so whole. In that moment, you knew in every fiber of your being that you’d been made for this.

“I’m gonna move, baby girl,” John whispered gently, slowly inching the both of you down onto the bed. Your body relaxed and after ten minutes of silence, John pulled away, leaving you bereft of his knot and dribbling his cum onto the sheets. You let your eyes fall shut, ignoring the ache in your body and relishing the calm of a partially sated heat.

John’s weight lifted off of the bed and you listened to him moving out of the room. A few moments later he returned and a damp cloth was pressed between your thighs. You didn’t move as he cleared away the mess, tucking the covers around you when he was done.

You opened your eyes and whined, making John smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” He bent down, kissing your forehead. “Gonna grab you a glass of water, okay?” You nodded, snuggling down into the covers, barely feeling the ache through the pleasant post-coital buzz.

When John returned, you were asleep. He watched you for a moment, feeling more certainty in his soul than he had done for a long time. Placing the water on the nightstand, he crawled under the covers next to you, smiling when you immediately turned and curled into his arms.

“Goodnight, baby girl,” he murmured, kissing your forehead.


	9. Chapter 9

A hard body was pressed against you, and you opened your eyes to a darkened room. Thirst overruled every other instinct, but as you reached up to grab the glass of water on the nightstand, your bladder decided that it was more important.

John was still asleep as you slid quietly from under the covers, away from the warmth he still radiated in strong waves. Dashing across the room naked, you snuck out the door into the hall. The bathroom door was open, and you couldn’t help but slam it in your urgency to relieve yourself.

When you emerged, returning to the bedroom, John was awake, grinning at you from his spot on the bed. Body backlit, he drank you in, folding his hands behind his head as you smiled shyly and fought the urge to cover yourself. He grinned wolfishly, white teeth gleaming, and your body pulsed with confidence and arousal as you found your spot back on the bed. He watched as you took small sips, drinking half the glass of water before putting it back down and taking a deep breath..

“How you feelin’?” John asked, trailing his fingers down your bare spine. A shiver went through you and he shifted as you climbed back into bed.

You considered the question. By all rights, you’d been fucked by your father, and you should probably have felt some sense of shame, but the only shame you felt was shame that you didn’t feel shame.

John waited, frowning when you didn’t answer. “Sweetheart?”

“I’m okay,” you rushed out, meeting his eyes. “I’m just not sure I should feel okay.” He tilted his head in confusion and you pulled your knees up to your chest. “You’re… you’re my father. You fucked me, knotted me, claimed me. I should be outraged. I should… I shouldn’t want to let you do it again.” By the time you finished speaking, your voice was a whisper, and John remained quiet for a moment.

“I’m your Alpha,” he amended, reaching out to cup your cheek, running his thumb over your skin. “I’m gonna take care of you. The boys will take care of you.”

Your body was slowly warming again, the heat still not quelled, and the ache in your bones for him began all over. You crawled a little closer, dragging the covers off of his lap, your reward standing firm and thick from the dark thatch of hair at his groin. “I shouldn’t want you inside me, Daddy. I shouldn’t want your knot filling me and stretching me. I shouldn’t want you to ruin me with your Alpha cock and fill me with pups.”

John groaned, watching you sling a leg over his thighs, hovering your pussy over his erection. Precum was beading on his tip, and it twitched as you slowly lowered yourself.

“I shouldn’t ever want that. I shouldn’t think about you fucking me full, or mating me. I shouldn’t think about how good -” you started to sink down onto his cock, eliciting a deep groan from his throat- “how good it feels that your cock hurts me. And I shouldn’t want you. It’s wrong.” He was keeping his gaze on you as you started to ride him with long, purposeful twists of your hips. “I shouldn’t want to my brothers to fuck me full,” you continued, your words a little strained with the effort of riding him. Slinging your arms around his neck, you whimpered as his cock nudged your g-spot. “I shouldn’t want three Alphas keeping me plugged up with cum and begging for a taste of their cocks. It’s so wrong,” you moaned, licking at his lips, “but, unhh, I don’t wanna be right.”

“Goddamn,” John gasped, the fire in his eyes making you move faster on his thick cock. “You’re such a filthy little cockslut.”

“For you, Daddy,” you whispered. “For my Alphas… this is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He nodded, placing his hands on your hips as you made a keening sound of pleasure. “It feels right and I should feel bad that it feels right. That my father’s cock is in me right now, filling me up so good, and I can feel his knot swelling to breed me again.”

John cursed, slamming his head back against the headboard with a thud. “Fuck, Omega,” he growled, and you stopped talking, working your hips harder and harder until you could feel him ready to pop. Your climax hit as you slammed down onto him, forcing the entire width of his Alpha knot into your cunt, screaming out when he started to cum.

He rolled you onto your back, making you cry out again, and his pelvis thrust forward, tugging his knot while it was inside you. The feeling was incredible, and you could feel his seed bulging your belly out. His scent was a drug to your overfiring nerves, and you couldn’t stop cumming.

Finally, John stopped pumping his hips into you and his climax ebbed off. You were struggling for breath and he stole the last of it with a kiss that was just as dirty as what you’d just done with him, the passion in it making your lungs burn before he released you. This time, his knot wouldn’t go down so quickly, and your heat still wasn’t over.

“Where did you learn to talk like that?” he asked, kissing the spot below your ear. “I thought you were a good girl, Y/N.”

“Dean leaves a lot of dirty magazines around,” you replied, closing your eyes. John was holding his weight off of you by his elbows. “And I’m not a good girl. Good girls don’t…”

He shushed you and you fell silent, trying not to think too deeply about what you were doing. Trying not to think about his knot locked inside your body, holding his cum in your belly. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” he assured you, stroking your face, making you open your eyes.

“I don’t feel like I have,” you whispered back.

John’s mouth set into a thin line and he kissed you softly on the lips, and then the forehead. “Get some sleep. Your heat isn’t finished.”

*****

The first heat of a converted Omega was always long. By the fourth day, John’s rut had passed, and both of you were exhausted, but your heat was still simmering below the surface of your skin.

Your fever hit 104 on Sunday morning, and it was raining again. The sheets were crumpled on the floor as you lay naked, staring at the window, watching the raindrops race down the glass, merging with one another and getting bigger before becoming a stream of constant water.

The bedroom door opened and John came in, carrying some toast and a glass of water. He placed them on the nightstand beside you, sitting down in the small gap between your body and the edge of the bed. “How you feelin’, baby girl?”

“Like roasted crap,” you murmured, not taking your eyes off of the window. An itch irritated your ankle, but you didn’t want to move. Staying perfectly still like this, you could almost ignore the steady burn of arousal that was more like pain than pleasure now.

John smiled, looking up at the window and sighing, not saying anything for a moment.

“Something’s wrong,” you whispered, feeling the start of tears in your eyes, and a sniff tickled at your nose. “You’re not telling me.” His gaze remained on the window and a steady lump formed in your throat.

“You shouldn’t still be in heat like this,” he said quietly, not meeting her eyes for a few seconds. “The fever hasn’t eased off the last two times, and I’m worried…” Your fingers curled around his wrist and John stopped talking, looking down at you.

“I’m not gonna die, Dad,” you breathed, closing your eyes and focusing on the comforting family scent. “I just…” He waited patiently, covering your fingers on his wrist with his other hand. “There are three Alphas in this house. Three scents. Maybe… maybe my body doesn’t know the difference.” You met his gaze, swallowing around your nerves.

Slowly, he nodded, leaning over and kissing your forehead. “Get some rest, sweetheart.” You let your eyes fall shut and John stood back, keeping his eyes on your for a second longer. He turned away, heading towards the door, stopping just outside in the hall.

Sam was stood just behind the wall, his head hung as he watched his dad for a moment. “I’m not in rut,” he stated, glancing towards the open bedroom door. “Dean’s not -”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s in heat,” John interrupted, looking at him. “We started this, Sam.”

“You said she wouldn’t get hurt.” His comment was met with silence, and Sam turned away. “Why can’t you do it?”

John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve already put my mark on her, Sam. She needs you and she needs Dean. We went over this, I’ve… I’ve gone over this a thousand times. There was no way to carry on if she was an Alpha.”

“You don’t know that,” Sam returned, keeping his back to his father. “We could have… there was a chance we could have found someone. She could have found someone normal, someone -”

“She’s a Winchester, Sam!” John hissed, grinding his teeth together. “We’ve got a job to do. And she’s our reason.” Sam narrowed his eyes, turning slowly to face the older Alpha.

“What do you know that we don’t?” Sam asked slowly, suspicion rising in his mind. “Dad?”

John swallowed, moving closer and pushing Sam down the hallway gently. “When you were kids, I saw a woman, a woman who told me I had to raise you boys to be fighters, warriors. That the world was at stake. I didn’t know how to do that without Mary, and then she told me… she told me that your mom was my soulmate, but she wasn’t my Omega.”

Sam stared, pulling back a little. “A woman?” John nodded. “Like a psychic?”

“She wasn’t… I don’t know,” John admitted. “But she knew things that were impossible for her to know. And I didn’t know what she meant until I saw Y/N on Bobby’s fucking doorstep.”

“She was eleven,” Sam pointed out.

“And I thought I was fucking sick. I ignored it. Put it outta my goddamn head,” John growled. “But she got older, and you boys got older, and there was a connection between you that I could see but couldn’t understand.” He sucked in a breath. “Dean’s ruts are getting worse,” he said, slowly. “You’ve noticed it. I’ve noticed it.” Sam didn’t say anything - he’d noticed his brother’s aggressive behavior increasing, but Dean had always been a hot headed Alpha. “We’re a unit, Sam. We’re a pack.”

Dean’s footsteps echoed up the stairs behind them, and John turned imploring eyes on Sam. “Dean needs it more than I do,” Sam murmured, turning away again, but not stopping this time. He moved towards his room, and John watched him go, not looking away until Sam shut the bedroom door.

“How is she?” Dean asked, gaining his dad’s attention.

John glanced back towards the room he’d left you asleep in, knowing it was likely you’d heard every word. He clenched his jaw, and sighed. “Go and lay with her. Keep her company. She needs you, too.”

Dean nodded, swallowing hard enough to make his Adam’s apple bob. John pushed past him, jogging down the stairs and out of sight as Dean turned to linger in the doorway of his father’s room. You lay with one hand under your head, and your back to the door, inhaling Dean’s Alpha scent.

“It’s okay, De,” you whispered, and a second later, you heard him kick off his shoes and unzip his pants. The bed dipped under his weight, before he lay behind you, his bare skin brushing against yours.

“Still hot?” he asked, pressing his lips to your shoulder. You nodded, humming at the soft touch. “Tell me what you need, Omega.” A shiver ran through your body, but everything hurt, and right now, you just needed comfort. Using every bit of energy you possessed, you shuffled so you were facing away from the window, and facing him.

Dean’s fingers stroked over your cheek, and you sighed, relaxing into him. “Just stay here,” you requested, and he nodded, pulling you into his bare chest, surrounding you with his arms and with his scent. You sucked in a lungful of it and exhaled, letting your eyes close again.


	10. Chapter 10

The warm body against you wasn’t John; you knew that straight away. His warmth was thick and syrupy, spreading a lethargic toxin through your veins as you lay there, refusing to open your eyes. It was your brother’s scent and comfort, and you soaked in it like you needed it to breathe. Dean was all cherry-flavored pop and childhood scraped knees - a hunter masking an eternal boy-child who always made you smile on those tough days and wiped away your tears when you couldn’t stop them from flowing.

His body reacted as you dragged a finger down his bare chest - he’d left nothing but his boxers on when he’d crawled into your space and given you the rest you needed.

But you didn’t need rest anymore.

Your fingers travelled south, down to the waistband of his boxers, tugging at the elastic. Dean shifted at the touch, licking his lips, but remaining asleep.

He didn’t twitch when you slipped the boxers down, watching his thick, flaccid cock slide free from the material. You smiled, cupping his dick, rewarded with a twitch and the slow swelling of his erection. For a second, you didn’t move, just holding him as he thickened out, but then you remembered the way he’d felt in your mouth before.

Shuffling down the bed, you squeezed his cock gently, licking at the tip. It hardened even more, still not to full mast, so you slid your lips down over him until your nose was buried in his pubic hair. Dean groaned, his eyes starting to open, and his cock swelled again.

He realized what you were doing as he saw your lips pressed against his groin. As his erection strengthened, it filled out your mouth, pushing past your tongue and bulging out your throat. Your eyes were watering, but you had every single inch of hard, pulsing flesh buried in your windpipe.

You swallowed, and Dean nearly fell apart.

When you pulled back, you were gasping and drooling on his cock, and he reached for you, pinning you down to the bed. You couldn’t catch your breath, and when Dean forced your thighs apart, thrusting two thick fingers into your soaked cunt, you choked on your own scream.

“Did you want something?” he asked, fucking his fingers into your body, making your lower half buck and writhe. “You woke me up.”

“Want your knot,” you whined, spreading your legs further for him, and Dean’s hand made a vulgar squishing noise in the wetness of your cunt. “Please, Alpha, want you to knot me.”

Dean groaned, stealing a kiss from your swollen lips before moving to kneel between your legs. “Bare?” he asked, unsure, and you nodded.

“Please, big brother,” you purred, reaching one hand between your legs to pump his thick Alpha cock. “Need to feel you inside me.” His pupils expanded with lust and Dean grumbled low in his chest, pressing down into you. You kept your hand around his cock, guiding him to your slick entrance, and both of you moaned when he sank inside, stretching you.

Dean gasped for breath, dropping his forehead to rest against your chin, and you moved your head down, kissing his forehead softly.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, curling your legs around him.

“I’m not gonna last,” he lamented, almost laughing. “I’ve never felt this… this warmth and…”

“Then don’t last,” you smiled, forcing him to look at you. “Cum inside me. Knot me. Claim me. We have time.” Dean’s eyes rolled back in his head before he found it in himself to kiss you deeply, slowly rocking his hips. He was seated inside you so perfectly, the flared head of his cock pressing into your cervix with a delicious friction.

Sweat started to bead on his skin as you moved together, each stroke sending him deeper and deeper into your willing body. You were close to the edge; you needed his knot and Dean could sense it. He nuzzled into the flesh of your throat, grazing his teeth over your pulse point.

His hips snapped against you harder, faster, until his knot was swelling. One sharp thrust forced the thick ring into you. Locked against your body, Dean’s cum pumping into your belly, you clung to him and sobbed out your own release. 

His teeth were in your neck and it took you a moment to realize you hadn’t even felt the bite. It didn’t sear through you like when John had claimed you; Dean’s bite only hurt when he pulled away and lapped at his mark, only a few centimeters from his father’s.

“You’re mine, now, Omega,” Dean purred, nibbling at your ear lobe and making you giggle at his playful behavior. He explored you while he was still inside you, trailing his nose, his fingers, and his tongue over any patch of skin he could reach. You smiled, watching him, seeing the adoration in his eyes as he lapped up your taste.

When he could finally pull away, he didn’t go too far, gathering you up into his arms, sharing lazy kisses that soothed the ache in your bones. You weren’t tired, and neither was he, but you were content to lay together in silence.

John appeared in the doorway a few moments later. Seeing the two of you in his bed, he stopped, leaning on the wooden frame to just watch. Dean pulled the covers up over you, hiding his own modesty, and you smiled. The eldest Winchester stayed for a moment before shooting you a swoon-worthy wink and disappearing down the hall.

“You wanna watch a movie?” Dean asked, shifting a little. “I need at least twenty minutes,” he joked, and you smiled, running your finger around his nipple, making him tense. “Maybe only fifteen,” he muttered.

“Let’s watch a movie,” you whispered, kissing his other nipple, and Dean grinned, looking down as his cock started to swell again, tenting the sheet. “I thought -” He moved, pulling you flush against him again, kissing the words off of your lips, smirking when he pulled back.

“Guess I was wrong.”

*****

The fever broke two days later.

More than anything, you wanted a shower, but Dean was apparently an over-affectionate Alpha and insisted on helping you get clean.

Within five minutes he had your back against the cold tiles, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked you just because he could. You were sore and full and exhausted, but you couldn’t resist him. Water sprayed over his shoulders and between you as he pounded you into the wall, his rough grunts and your mewls of pleasure echoing through the bathroom.

He came without knotting you, kissing you breathless before actually getting to the task of cleaning you up.

John was waiting in the hallway when you emerged, wearing a towel and giggling. “Daddy!” you exclaimed, not missing the little smile at the title you’d decided was his. “I’m better,” you whispered, sauntering up to him. Dean was behind you watching, smirking, towelling himself off.

“So I can see,” John murmured, cupping your chin with two fingers. He turned your head to the side, checking on Dean’s mark, neatly aligned with his, and his smile grew. “Good girl,” he praised, pulling you close to kiss you.

You pulled back, noticing he was a little tense. “Where’s Sam?” you asked, frowning. John sighed, stroking your shoulder. Dean stood straight behind you, pulling his pants on with a concerned look on his face. “Dad?” you whispered, worry making your chest ache.

“He left,” John admitted. “Last night. I didn’t… I didn’t want to worry you.” He looked over your shoulder at Dean. “I don’t know where he’s gone.” Dean shuffled out of the bathroom topless, his expression stern.

“I’ll go find him,” the elder brother stated, moving towards his room. “He won’t have gone far, trust me.” He opened the bedroom door and stumbled to a stop. “Er…” You and John turned in tandem, walking over to where Dean was stood in the doorway. “He didn’t go far,” he deadpanned, moving out of the way to show Sam, slumped in a heap on his single bed, one leg dangling over the side and snoring loudly.

You wrinkled your nose delicately. “He stinks.”

John sighed, drawing you away. “You need to eat. Sam’s just processing the Winchester way.”

“That’s healthy,” you quipped, and you heard Dean slam his bedroom door and yell loudly. “Sam isn’t happy,” you mused, letting John guide you into the kitchen to sit on a stool. You were still only wearing the towel, but you weren’t entirely bothered about your nudity.

It was a relatively small concern compared to the week you’d spent being knotted by your father and older half-brother.

John gave you a look that confirmed your suspicions about Sam before turning away to prepare you some food.

“Is it me?” you asked, feeling a little shaky. “I don’t mind. The heat broke, so, if he doesn’t want to -” You spoke haltingly, and it hurt deeper than you imagined to face the prospect of Sam’s rejection. “I don’t need him.” Your voice fell to a whisper on the last line, the biggest lie you’d probably ever told.

“Yeah,” John breathed, “you do.” He didn’t speak again, finishing the simple sandwich he’d prepared you before sliding it across the table to a stop in front of you. “Eat up, princess.” He sat down, watching as you nibbled at the sandwich. “Sam is scared.” You waited, still eating as he spoke. “And I don’t blame him. He has never seen you in quite the same light as me and Dean.”

Finishing the last bite, you looked over at him. “Can I see him? Alone?” John raised an eyebrow. “I’ve had plenty of time with you, and with Dean. Sam… Sam always needed more from me than you did. And right now, I don’t need an Alpha, but he needs an Omega.”

A smile spread across John’s face and he reached over, touching your hand softly before standing and walking around to embrace you. You softened into the curve of the Alpha’s touch, breathing in the sweet scent of family, home, and security.

“Let him sleep off the hangover,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “We need to go to the store anyway. Think you can handle that?” You nodded, sitting straight and sliding off of the stool. “Good,” John chuckled, slapping your ass lightly. “Go get dressed, baby girl.”


	11. Chapter 11

The light summer dress you’d put on was delicately feminine - and not you at all. But you’d seen it, and the thought of wearing too much made you feel odd, plus it was warm outside. Pairing the dress with some sandals and scrunching your hair into a messy ponytail, you jogged down the stairs and out to the car where John was waiting.

He smiled brightly, holding the car door open for you, and you slid in with ease, watching him walk around the front of the car and climb in the driver’s side.

“I was thinking,” he started, switching the ignition on, “that maybe we could get pizza on the way home?”

“Sounds good,” you replied, not bothering with your seatbelt and winding the window down as John pulled away from the house. “I need to get some things the boys forgot,” you mentioned, and John nodded.

“Whatever you need, baby girl,” he responded, looking over at you. You licked your lips, watching his hands flex on the wheel. “I was thinking we should stop at the pharmacy. For birth control.”

Your libido died flat and you sank back in your seat. “Birth control?”

“Yeah,” John confirmed, not looking at you. “I mean, we’ve taken a big risk already, but I think -”

“You said you’d breed me,” you whispered, crestfallen at the suggestion of the opposite. He stuttered, glancing between you and the road. Sliding your full bottom lip out, you pouted and leaned over, not thinking too much about what had come over you.

Something had opened up the floodgates of your sexuality, and all you could think about was being bred by three strong Alphas, over and over. Your hand was on John’s crotch now, his cock swelling under your palm, and he groaned, tipping his head back slightly.

The car swerved a little before John pulled over on an empty side road, stopping the car behind some trees for good measure. “Daddy…”

“Princess,” he started, but you were already climbing across the car, discarding your sandals as you went. “I know I said that but -”

“I want it,” you purred, straddling his lap and tugging your dress up to show him your bare pussy. John rumbled in his chest and his cock throbbed in his pants. “I want you to breed me, over and over. Fill my belly up with pups. I want it.” Your hands were on his face, your lips hovering just over his, enough to brush against them and feel the wispy hairs on his top lip. “I want you bare inside me, Daddy. Every time. Telling me how pretty I’ll be all filled up with Winchester babies.”

John was panting now, and he put up no resistance when you reached between your bodies, utterly in control. His pants came undone with ease, and you freed his thick cock, smacking your lips together, wishing you had the room and the patience to suck his sweet taste off of it.

But you definitely didn’t have the patience. Despite the ache from so much in the past few days, you craved more. “Please, Daddy.” Your entrance was kissing the wide tip of his cock and John nodded, breathing out a yes. You smiled, slowly sinking down onto him, relishing the burn and stretch.

“Oh, God, darlin’,” he growled, his hands dropping onto your hips as you started to writhe against him. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined this, or anything like the way you’d responded to him. The way you whispered “Daddy” reverently, twisting his perversions even more. You were the perfect Omega.

Your eyes fell closed and John watched your face contort in pleasure - you didn’t have any thought for his release, only your own. He could feel it the moment you fell, the way your body tightened around him, pulsing hard enough to make him see stars. It felt like your cunt was sucking at him, drawing out everything he had, and fuck, he was more than willing to give it.

You leaned in as you rode out your high, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fuck a baby in me, Daddy.”

John came, hard and thick, holding you down on his cock until you whimpered at the pressure. His cum leaked out the sides of your full pussy, but you couldn’t stop clenching around him. He grunted, pulling you off, and you slumped into the passenger seat.

“No birth control?” he asked, and you nodded, slowly sitting up and rearranging your dress. “Fine. But you gotta walk all round the store with my cum dripping down your legs.”

*****

It should have been embarrassing. Humiliating. Instead, you felt empowered.

John usually stayed away from large stores like Walmart - too many cameras, too many people - and this trip wasn’t a change in routine. The small family grocery store had everything you would need, and as you walked around with John, you couldn’t ignore the disgusted looks and the “he’s old enough to be her father”. It gave you a sick thrill knowing that he _was_ your father.

The first Alpha you passed stopped dead in the middle of the pasta aisle, looking and sniffing as you walked by, holding onto the end of the cart as John pushed it. He grinned, following you with his eyes - the move didn’t go unnoticed by John. The older Alpha growled possessively, and his territory was thoroughly pissed on.

The rival moved on and you slipped back to stand at John’s side, wiggling in front of him as he groaned in annoyance. “Would you stop? You’re drawing too much attention.”

“Do you think he could smell it?” you whispered teasingly.

“Y/N -” An old lady walked past and scowled at you, and John grabbed your hand. “Behave yourself. We don’t need that sort of trouble here.” You deflated and nodded before poking your tongue out at the retreating old lady. John’s hand landed on your ass - a warning shot - and you took heed.

The rest of the trip you behaved and stayed by John’s side, grabbing the things you needed. Shortly before reaching the cashier you snagged a bag of gummy bears, looking up at John. “I need them. For Sam.”

He smothered a smirk and relented, taking them out of your hands and placing them on the belt. You stood behind him as he paid and the busboy bagged up the groceries, handing them over. The boy was barely in his first rut, and he nearly tripped as you walked past, flashing him a smile.

John barked your name and you rushed to catch up. He seemed pissed and you walked in silence until you were sat in the car, waiting for John to take the cart back.

There was tension when he sat in the driver seat, looking over at you. “What is wrong with you?” he snapped, scowling deeply. “That in there… that wasn’t sensible behavior. It was childish and irresponsible. What if another Alpha had a gun?”

You shrugged. “You’d kill him.”

John stared at you in horror. “No. I don’t just kill people, Y/N, you know that. I raised you to know that.”

“Exactly,” you cried out, slamming your fists onto your thighs. “ _You_ raised me. Maybe not my whole life, but enough! And now you’ve changed me. I _crave_ you. Like a fucking addict. And I can’t stop… I’m…”

His hands were on yours, holding them steady. “It’s okay. It was too soon to bring you out. You need to be where it’s safe and everything is familiar. Let’s get you home and we’ll figure this out.” You nodded, leaning into him, but John pulled away, gesturing to the backseat. “Go lay down back there, yeah?”

Dejection hit you like a bolt to the chest and you snatched yourself backward, getting out of the car and crawling into the backseat with your back to him. You sulked unashamedly, ignoring the angry tears that threatened to drip down onto the leather upholstery.

John sighed and started the car, pulling out of the parking lot. A few moments later, he stopped the car, turning to look back at you over the seat. “Pizza?” he asked as a peace offering.

You scowled at the leather in front of your face. “Pepperoni,” you muttered. “Extra cheese.”

“You got it,” he said before leaving you alone in the car while he went to get the food.

When you arrived back at the house, you climbed out of the car before he’d even turned the engine off. He called after you, but you ignored him and dashed past Dean, slamming the bathroom door on all of them. John jogged into the house, still calling your name, and Dean frowned at him.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked, and his dad sighed.

“Just… she’s… she’s a little mixed up right now,” John said, shaking his head. “There was a… nothing happened, just…”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’ll go check on her,” he offered, but John held a hand up. “What, I should leave her?” The shower turned on upstairs, and he turned his head, his body following a few seconds later. “Why is she showering again? She showered this morning -”

“Pizza!” John remembered, pointing to the car. “I left the pizza in the car, can you go get it?”

“Is she showering because you two -”

“Dean,” John ground his teeth together, “go and get the pizza. Now.” Dean’s mouth shut, and he nodded, moving past his father towards the door and running down the steps to the car. John looked up the stairs, listening to you in the shower.

You were singing.

“Sam!” he yelled, and one of the bedroom doors opened. “Lunch!” Whatever had gone on with you, John would sort it out later. He was hoping he could put it down to hormonal changes - he’d seen information about mood swings when he’d been researching conversion.

Sam emerged, banging on the bathroom door as he passed, and a muffled “fuck you” came through the door, making him grin. He trotted down the stairs, his mood souring a little when he saw his dad. “Dad?”

“Me and Dean are goin’ out later,” John replied, turning for the kitchen. Sam nodded, scratching the back of his head as Dean walked in through the front door with pizza. “You gonna be okay?” Dean and John both had their eyes on him, and Sam offered a weak smile.

“Yeah. Sure,” he returned, leaning over to grab a slice of pizza. “I’ll be absolutely fine.”


	12. Chapter 12

You were pleasantly surprised to find several slices of pepperoni left for you when you entered the kitchen, where Sam was alone. His eyes swept over your bare legs and the white panties visible under the hem of the long shirt you’d stolen from Dean. “It’s still warm,” he murmured, gesturing to the pizza. “Dad and Dean went out.”

“Oh.” You shot him a bright smile as you slid onto the kitchen stool, reaching over for the pizza box. “Do you know when they’ll be back?”

Sam shrugged, standing up and walking over to the sink to refill his glass with water. He turned, leaning against the countertop, sipping at the drink, watching you munch on the pizza. “You got your appetite back then?” he asked, almost a little hesitant. You nodded at him, taking another bite. “It’s good. Good your heat is over.”

Swallowing the bite, you frowned, looking up at him. His expression was unreadable, but the tone of his voice indicated that he wasn’t actually that happy your heat was done. “Sam?”

“Yeah?”

You had to be careful about this. Sam needed you, and you knew you needed him. Your heat was done, sure, but there was still a space in your heart that you knew belonged to him. “How about we take this pizza to go and watched tv in my room?” You stood up, grabbing the pizza box. Sam paused for a moment, as if he was unsure, and you forced your smile wider. “I’m still pretty tired, but I wanna hang out. Like we used to.”

Nostalgia was a powerful weapon, and it worked. The tension melted out of Sam’s shoulders and he nodded, following you up the stairs and into your room. You closed the door, knowing John had probably gone out with Dean on purpose after what you’d said to him earlier.

Sam turned on the television and you crawled onto the right side of your bed, patting the left side, scooting over when he climbed in beside you. You leaned into his side, opening the pizza box and munching on a fresh slice. “Don’t get sauce on my shirt,” he warned, and you grinned, continuing to eat as Sam flicked through the channels.

“Oh hey,” you chirped, pointing at the screen with your half-eaten slice. “I love this movie.”

His nose wrinkled up, but he didn’t change the channel. “Seriously?”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with When Harry Met Sally,” you argued, licking the sauce off of your fingers as you chewed the last bite of the pizza. “It’s a classic.”

“It’s a chick flick,” he replied, shaking his head, leaning down to steal a slice of your pizza.

“Hey!” you glared at him and sat up, watching him grin and get tomato sauce down his chin. “You’re such a messy eater.”

Sam’s smile widened and his tongue darted out to catch the runaway sauce. For a second, you were mesmerized - then Sally started to perform her fake orgasm on screen, and you blushed furiously. Sam finished the slice in three bites, his eyes glued to the screen. “You sound like that,” he commented like he was talking about the weather.

“What?” You froze, staring at him.

“I mean, you were quiet enough with Dad, but Dean… Dean likes to make girls scream.” A hot flash of jealousy rushed through you, and you sat back quietly. Sam’s eyes moved from the television to you, and he frowned. “What?”

“Do you…” You swallowed, feeling sick at the thought of what you were about to say. “Do you think they went to a bar? You know,” you paused, avoiding his eyes, “with women?”

His eyes went wide and he sat up, discarding the pizza box and its last slice to the floor. “Hey, no.” Warm fingers cupped your chin, and when you raised your face to look at him, tears were clinging to your lashes. “Dad and Dean… they love you, Y/N. And they wouldn’t go looking for other women. Not like that.”

“I’m just a solution,” you whimpered, unable to stop the tears. “I’m here for the ruts. I’m not… it’s not like that.” Sam didn’t say anything and you stared at him, desperate for reassurance. “Is it?”

“No,” he murmured, shifting a little closer. “It’s not like that, at all. This thing is… it’s confusing and scary, and we’re having to confront feelings that we’d always been taught were wrong… and I know I’ve been resistant. I’ve treated you like crap -” You opened your mouth to object to that, but Sam stopped you speaking. “I have, Y/N, and there’s no excuse for it. I can’t drink this away, and I can’t ignore it. Because you’re my little sister, and I love you. I love you in ways I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop.”

Silence was your only response as Sam’s starry eyes burned into yours. His fingers were on your cheek now, his thumb grazing the corner of your mouth, and it felt like the most sensitive spot on your body. You wanted to crawl into his lap and stay there forever, give him purpose and love, and all the things he craved.

“You wanted normal,” you said like it was a secret, and a crooked smile lit up his face.

“I wanted you before I wanted normal,” he admitted, leaning in.

The first touch was light, hesitant. You couldn’t relax, not until Sam was pressed against you, his eyes closed as he sought out the warmth of your mouth. His tongue brushed against yours, and you responded, letting him drag you against the larger frame of his body.

His fingers left your face, travelling down one side of your body until he was cupping your ass where you laid across him. Hunger drove your kisses higher, harder, demanding everything he had to give, and Sam gave it, easily. The thick outline of his cock was pressed against your thigh, and you sighed when you pulled away, feeling his lips touch your forehead.

“Sam,” you gasped, tugging at his shirt.

“I need you,” Sam mumbled, pressing on your ass with his hand, pushing you harder against his erection. “I’ve always needed you.”

You nuzzled against him, rubbing your nose along the column of his throat, inhaling his scent deeply. A rumble worked its way up from his chest, almost like a purr - the sound comforted you, and you dragged blunt teeth over his skin.

He tasted like he smelled; rich, oaky, like brown sugar on smoked bacon, sizzling and sugary enough to make you smack your lips. A tiny moan left your lips to burn into his throat, and Sam pulled you up, capturing your lips again.

“Take those panties off,” he ordered, his voice ovary-meltingly low. A chain reaction in your core exploded in shudders along your spine as you slowly shimmied out of the panties. You straddled his thighs, pulling the shirt off slowly over your head, revealing your breasts to him. Sam groaned as you tossed the shirt, dragging your fingers down the front of his.

“So, you’ve seen mine…” you whispered, running your fingers down his chest, stopping just shy of his belt. “Do I get to see yours?” You sat back, and Sam kept his eyes on yours as he unbuckled his belt, and popped the already straining buttons on his pants. The denim slid down his legs until it couldn’t go any further, and he sat back, his hands behind his head as you appraised him. “Hmm. And here I thought Dean was the cocky one.”

“I think it’s a Winchester thing,” Sam murmured, his cock bouncing as you looked at it.

The dark brown hair at the base was neatly trimmed, his balls completely shaven, and you couldn’t help but lick your lips. “Manscaping?” Sam shrugged, and you giggled lightly, wrapping your fingers around his shaft. “It is a very pretty cock, Sam,” you purred, bending down to lick at his tip, enjoying your reward when he groaned deeply. “But I don’t think it’s going to fit.”

“We’ll take it slow,” he promised, but the grin didn’t leave his face. He pushed your fingers away, holding his cock in his meaty palm, and you practically salivated at watching him. “And don’t tell Dean my dick’s bigger - he’ll get upset.”

A smile stretched across your face. “It’s not  _ that _ much bigger.”

Sam arched an eyebrow, and you could see the challenge in his eyes before he expressed it. “Maybe one day we’ll do a side by side comparison.” You pretended to be shocked at the idea, but your mind was already off on a tangent, and you wondered if you were actually sick in the head. “You’re really okay with this?” Sam asked, sitting up closer to you.

“I’m okay with this,” you replied, leaning in to him, reassuring him with a gentle kiss.

“Lay back,” he said, suddenly, and you pulled back, blinking. Sam smiled at you, bobbing his head a little. “I said, lay back.” You obeyed, slowly, easing down onto your elbows, but Sam shook his head. “All the way.”

Your eyes were on the ceiling, and you gasped when his hands spread your thighs. His belt buckled jingled as he moved, positioning himself in between your legs. It was odd, how you sensed him moved above you without being able to see him, and as his hands spread up to frame your slit between his huge fingers, you held your breath.

Sam hummed, blowing warm air across your sensitive folds, and your body clenched in response. “You smell even better up close,” he whispered, dragging the tip of his tongue up the length of your sex. “And you taste…” All of the air went out of your lungs as he pressed his face into you, his tongue thrusting into your hole forcefully. Your arms shot up, and you grabbed hold of the footboard, digging your blunt nails into the polished wood. It was a brief fulfilment, and Sam pulled away, licking his lips. “I wanna say ambrosia but that’s more Dean’s line.”

“Can we not talk about Dean when you’re going down on me?” you asked breathily, earning a low chuckle.

“Why not?” he continued, pressing his thumb into the spot just above your clit, teasing you with a near touch. “I like thinking about Dean fucking you. I like listening to you scream when he’s taking you, the way you always have to stop to breathe.” You exhaled softly, feeling like your throat was gonna close up. A single finger pressed into you, giving you just a taste of what was to come. “I wanna watch him take you apart piece by piece, until you’re just begging to be stuffed with cock.”

“Sam!” you cried, shocked at this sudden side to the usually gentle giant.

He rubbed his thumb over your clit, and your hips jerked off the bed. “John looks after you,” he mused, repeating the action and drinking in your drawn-out moan. “Dean gives you pleasure,” he continued, watching your pussy twitch as he slowly drew his index finger down from your clit to your soaking hole. “So what do I do?”

“You’re torturing me right now,” you ground out, antagonized by the prolonged penetration of his single digit.

“Do you think I wanna be gentle?” Sam asked, twisting his wrist to tease you a little more. “Did you think the only thing I was worried about was giving you pups?” You didn’t reply, keeping still as he kept working at your over-stimulated flesh. “That was only half of it.”

“What’s the other half?” you gasped, trying to resist the urge to grind down, needing more than just one finger. Sam could see your hips shaking, and he couldn’t help but grin.

“I wanna make you feel good,” he murmured, “but I also wanna feel good. I want you begging for me, submitting to me. Whenever I think about it, about,” Sam dragged a finger across your thigh, “seeing my marks on your skin. About having you tied up and spread across my lap with your ass in the air? I get so fucking hard, Y/N. I’ve got a dark streak a mile wide, and your face is in every fantasy.”

You were panting heavily now, abandoning the resistance to his touch, grinding down hard onto his hand. Sam didn’t move, just watching you writhe on his fingers.

“Look at you. I’ve barely started and you’re already desperate for more,” he commented, smirking. “Do you want my knot, little sister?” You whined, arching your back, and Sam pulled his finger away. “Wanna be on all fours, dripping for me?”

He shifted, climbing off the bed, and you rolled onto your side, watching him undress, discarding his clothes on the floor. His ass was firm and pert, and he was a little bit hairier than Dean, broader too. Not for the first time, you thought he might be more Campbell than Winchester - people had always told you that you looked more like your mother than your father.

“You with me?” Sam asked, smiling down at you.

You blinked, meeting his eyes with a blush. “Sorry. I was just -”

“Comparing?”

“I have three hot guys in one house, all of whom are fucking me. Despite the circumstances…” You laughed, shaking your head and rolling onto your back. “It’s fucked up, but it’s like the worst best porn video you could find. All I need now is all three of you at once -”

“Whoa,” Sam tisked, pulling a face as he kneeled on the edge of the bed. “I could deal with Dean in the same room. We’ve spent too much time in close quarters to be shy about each other.” He leaned over you, kissing your lips fully. “But could we please not talk about any situation that requires my dad seeing my naked ass?”

You giggled again, the sound interrupted as Sam stole another kiss. “You’ve all seen me naked,” you pointed out. Sam gave you a look, then reeled back, resting on his haunches. “What?”

“Sit on my face,” he ordered, and you pushed yourself up to look at him in confusion. “You know, you’re gonna have to start actually doing what I say instead of acting all innocent.” He shifted over, laying flat on the bed, and your eyes immediately went to the thick cock jutting from his groin. The thick vein at the front throbbed, and you felt a tingling numbness between your thighs. “Sit on my face, Omega.”

You shuddered, moving over to do as he instructed, but when you lifted your leg, Sam blocked the move, shaking his head.

“Other way round.”

“What?” His eyebrow twitched, and you glanced at his feet. “You want me to face that way? Away from you?”

“Problem?” You swallowed, unsure of the position. Doggy style was one thing, but this was - Sam stopped your train of thought with a hand on your knee. “Hey, it’s okay. You can say no.”

With a shake of your head, you smiled nervously. “Am I allowed to touch you?” you asked hesitantly. He nodded, smirking, and you sucked in a breath. You’d never been so exposed to anyone as you moved to straddle Sam the other way, flinching a little when you came face to face with his beast of a cock. “Oh,” you exhaled, and his thick length twitched in response to your breath.

“Now  _ that _ is a view,” Sam praised, placing his hands on your asscheeks, spreading you open. You whimpered as his breath teased your pussy; you felt like you were going to implode. Distraction was your best option as Sam pressed his tongue deep into your cunt, so you wrapped your hand around his cock, licking it from base to tip.

It was a bad move. Sam groaned loudly against your sex and you made a noise that probably sound like a cat being swung around, but you would be embarrassed about that later. He started to feast on you like he didn’t need to breathe, making you clench your thighs around his head, gasping wildly as he tongue fucked you.

“Suck my cock,” he growled, barely pulling away to issue the order. You nodded, gulping down air, yelping when Sam went back to work. Trying to steady yourself against the overwhelming pleasure, you licked at his cock again, experimenting by wrapping your lips around his tip, sinking down slowly.

Another groan made your eyes roll back, and you took another inch in, running your tongue over every vein and bump. The weight of him on your tongue was more than you’d expected; as you felt him brush the back of your throat, you swallowed.

Sam pressed his thumb against your asshole, the unexpected stimulus making you jump in surprise and forcefully deepthroat his cock. Quickly coming back up for air, Sam asked,  “Too much?” Still  _ touching  _ you, he waited for your answer and was met with a high pitched noise. Sam grinned and applied a little more pressure. Your pussy clenched, and he felt it. “Not enough?” he murmured.

“Fuck,” you hissed, sucking his cock back into your throat, managing to take him hard and deep for two or three strokes until your gag reflex couldn’t take it. As you pulled back again, Sam’s thumb disappeared, and you heard him suck the digit into his mouth.

This time, when he touched you there, his thumb slipped in a small way, and combined with his tongue on your pussy, it was too much. Taking him back into your mouth, you ground your hips down onto his face, daring him to go harder. Sam snarled, thrusting his thumb into your ass a little harder.

You came, crying out around his cock, and Sam drank you down with a pleasured moan.

Somehow, you managed to pull yourself away, and you fell face first on the bed, breathing heavily. Sam’s hand was on your calf, stroking it as you swam through the haze of climax, clinging to the bed sheets with weak fingers.

“Was that good?” he asked, sitting up.

“Uh-huh,” you mumbled, nodding against the mattress. “I’m… I’m gonna need a minute.”

Sam chuckled, moving around on the bed behind you, and you shrieked as his palm calm down on your ass, hard enough to sting. “Would you let me?” he asked, smoothing his warm hand over the spank mark. His palm heated your skin where you could feel each fingerprint on your skin, and you turned your head to look at him. “Would you let me do it to you? Spank you, whip you, tie you up until you’re begging?”

Your eyes went wide as you thought about the way he’d touched you. Your skin was seared with his marks, and you couldn’t deny it… you wanted more. With a slow nod, you reached out to him, but Sam dodged away, smirking.

His knees pressed your legs open and his hand came down between your shoulders, pinning you to the bed. You cried out, spreading your thighs for him. “I’m gonna fuck you, and knot you, and fill you with cum. Then I’m gonna mark you.” His fingers brushed against your entrance, two thrusting roughly inside you to scissor you open. “You’re gonna take all of my cock, aren’t you, Omega?”

“Y-yes, Alpha,” you mewled in response, clenching around his fingers.

Sam grunted, lining up and dragging his cockhead through your folds. “Wanted you like this for so long,” he mused, slicking his skin with your essence. “Sweet little Omega, pinned beneath me. All you can do is take it.”

He eased in and you gasped into the covers, struggling for breath when Sam’s juicy cock felt like it was gonna split you in two . Sam didn’t stop, pressing in inch by agonising inch until you could feel his head pressed hard against your cervix. Even then, he wouldn’t stop, and you wailed as he rolled his hips, insistent on getting that last two inches in.

“Sam -”

“Relax,” he growled, rocking his hips again, and you spread your thighs as much you could, giving him the extra room. The entire thick shaft was inside you, and the intense fullness sent you over the edge, your body spasming around him. Sam snarled, his fingers clutching your shoulder before he snatched it away to keep his balance on the bed.

You were panting, needing him to move, but Sam remained still, just twitching inside you. It was torturous; a big Alpha dick was opening you up, but you needed the friction. “Sam…”

“Lift this leg,” Sam ordered, tapping your left leg. “Knee up to your chest, high as you can.” You obeyed, whimpering when it afforded him an even deeper angle, making Sam groan. “Fuck,” he hissed, holding your leg up where you’d placed it before shifting his right leg to the other side of yours. Pinned to the bed with him buried so deep inside you, you thought you might break. “Tell me if you need to move.”

“I need  _ you _ to move,” you growled back, tightening around him and,  _ oh god _ , it felt too good. Sam’s forehead was against your shoulder blade, the sweat off of his skin clinging to yours. He still didn’t move, and you were close to screaming at him before you realized there was a peculiar scent in the air. “Sam… you’re…”

“I know,” he answered, still pressed against your back. “I know, I thought I felt it earlier and…”

“It doesn’t matter,” you whimpered, “because you need to move. I need it, I need you… fuck, Sam, I need you to fuck me. Please, Alpha. Please -” Your coherent sentence trailed off into murmured pleas, and Sam groaned in desperation.

“I’m in rut,” he gasped, his entire frame shaking. “I don’t wanna lose control.”

“You won’t,” you snapped back. “Sam, please,”  _ don’t cry, don’t cry _ , “Alpha, I need it, I need your knot -”

A deep, primal rumble made you fall silent, and Sam lifted up behind you, pressing his cock into you hard enough to make you wince... and then he moved.

There was no build up, no playing, no more teasing. Sam knew what he wanted, and you screamed under the force of his thrusts, drowning in the sound of his overheated skin slapping into yours. His fingers curled around your leg where he held it up, leaving nail marks that got deeper every second. 

“So good,” he snarled, leaving brutal, open-mouthed kisses across your back, every kiss  more teeth than tongue. You weren’t screaming anymore - you’d run out of breath for it with each crazy wave of pleasure that crashed over you. The bed underneath was wet with your slick and your left thigh was heading for a bruise shaped like Sam’s hip.

His knot started to thicken inside you and you sobbed with pleasure, arching your back instinctively. Sam gave one hard thrust that knocked the wind out of you before his knot locked inside your body and he started to cum. He dropped his weight onto you, sinking his teeth into your neck on the opposite side to his father’s and brother’s marks. Sam’s claim hurt more than Dean or John’s, and when you winced and gasped his name, he bit down harder, giving you one last buck of his hips so you could feel his knot tug inside of you.

You weren’t sure how long you were laying underneath him, bones still trembling from his touch and your legs numb to any feeling. Sam was panting heavily, sweating on top of you, softly suckling at the permanent mark he’d made on your throat.

His arms slid underneath your body and he pulled you with him as he rolled onto his side, waiting for his knot to give way. You felt full and warm and sleepy as hell, so you let your eyes fall shut, content in Sam’s warmth and comfort.

“You smell like red vines,” you whispered, and Sam chuckled against your neck, running his hands up to cup your breasts, making you whimper. “I’m really tired, Sammy.”

“Get some sleep,” he murmured, kissing the spot behind your ear, nuzzling into you. “I’m here, not goin’ anywhere.”

You drifted off with a smile on your face and three Alpha marks on your neck.


	13. Chapter 13

“Sammy! Y/N!” Dean’s voice roused you from sleep, and you woke up just as Dean hammered on your bedroom door. You rolled over, stretching out across the bed to look at the clock. It was a little after nine, and you blinked as you tried not to doze back off to sleep.

Dean banged on the door again, and you grunted before turning onto your side. The door flew open and Dean strode in, scooping your naked frame up from the bed. You shrieked and fought back, unable to overpower him as he carried you towards the bathroom.

“Dean, you bastard, put me down!” you screamed, and Sam popped his head out into the hallway, hair sticking up all over the place as he watched his brother carrying you over his shoulder. A second later, he jumped when you made a sound like a wounded animal, and Dean started laughing.

“Wakey wakey,” he taunted, and Sam ambled down the hall.

“That was freezing, asshole!” you shouted. As Sam walked into the room he dodged a bottle of shampoo that clattered into the wall and burst open, showering the wall in blue goo. “Get out!”

Dean was still cracking up, and he pushed past Sam just as you grabbed the conditioner bottle. Sam’s eyes widened as you took aim, and the bottle hit the door just as it slammed shut.

“What the hell was that?” Sam demanded, glaring at Dean as he slumped against the wall, clutching his middle.

“You should have seen her face!” the elder brother cackled, almost crying with mirth. “Oh man, I am gonna pay for that.”

“Why would you do that?”

Dean shrugged, standing straight and wiping at his eyes. “It was funny. Come on, Sam. We do shit like that to her all the time.”

Sam shook his head, running a hand through his messy hair and wincing when he found a tangled knot. “It’s different now.”

There was a moment of silence. “Don’t treat her like fragile glass because she’s an Omega, Sammy,” Dean warned, sobering at his brother’s words. “She’s still a Winchester. She needs normal. She doesn’t need us tiptoeing around her.” He sighed, scratching the back of his neck before gesturing to the bathroom. “Tell her we’ve got a hunt. Dad needs all of us on this one.”

*****

“You’re an asshole,” you hissed at Dean, sliding into the backseat of the Impala. Dean grinned and John glared over at him, wondering what he’d done to piss you off. “Just wait. You’re gonna get yours.”

Dean poked his tongue out and you reciprocated just as Sam climbed in and shut his door. John turned the engine on and locked his eyes on you in the mirror. “I don’t know what happened, I don’t care what happened. We’re on a hunt. I don’t need to be worryin’ bout you two playin’ fools when it’s our asses on the line.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean replied, sitting straight in his seat. John’s eyes remained on yours and you swallowed thickly.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, and Sam’s hand scrunched into the leather upholstery next to you. A smile pulled at John’s lips and he pulled the car away from the house, not saying a word.

“Where are we heading?” Sam asked, trying to stifle a yawn.

“Milwaukee,” John replied stiffly.

“That’s a twelve hour drive,” Dean complained with a groan, and you dropped your head onto the back of your seat. This meant shifts in driving and probably a night in a crappy motel.

Having your own room had spoiled you.

“Shifts,” John announced, predictably. “We’re gonna need gas in about a hundred miles. Dean can take over from there. We should be near Indianapolis by dark. Grab a few hours, get to Milwaukee fresh.” He glanced in the rearview mirror again. “It’s werewolves.”

“Werewolves?” you repeated, frowning. “As in -”

“As in, there will be other hunters. It’s a group effort. We’re only there ‘cause Ellen called me.” John’s words were gruff and he kept his eyes on the road. “Packs don’t go down easy. It’s all hands on deck.”

You looked over at Sam, who shrugged, and then you sank back in your seat. Something was sitting uncomfortably in your belly, a horrible apprehensive feeling. As you stared at the back of John’s seat, Sam reached over and took your hand, squeezing it gently.

“Are there gonna be other Alphas there?” you whispered, and Sam squeezed your hand again.

“I don’t know. But if there are, you got all three of us. You’ve got our marks, and we’ll protect you.”

You nodded, giving him the brightest smile you could muster. He seemed happier with that, and you kept your mouth shut. There was no point in bringing up your real worries - you were a converted Omega. What if someone sensed it? What if there was scorn because you had three Alphas? And what the hell was Ellen Harvelle gonna have to say about the whole thing?

A realization hit you, and you felt sick to your stomach. Bobby might be there.

The man who’d raised you for half your life, and who you’d barely spoken to since John swept you away from the salvage yard. He could be there, and what would he think of where you were now?

“No one knew you were Alpha,” Sam whispered, his fingers still laced through yours. “They won’t know. It doesn’t matter what they think. We’re pack, right?” You nodded again, feeling the smallest amount of relief at his words. 

But no matter what, you couldn’t shake the fear of what Bobby might say.

*****

The motel John directed Sam into was a by-the-hour dive, and you practically cringed at the tacky sign that was half lit up in the night sky. Dean immediately located a nearby bar that was of a similar nature, offering drinks all round.

His dad shot him down, ordering them to get plenty of sleep. He wanted to be out of there by dawn, and that meant early nights for everyone. 

You were grateful, having spent half the day cooped up in the backseat of the Impala. Despite promising you could drive, it had ended up being mostly Dean and John behind the wheel, and you needed to stretch your legs. “Where do you think you’re going?” John snapped, when you grabbed your duffel and coat.

“To the room?” you provided, confused by his tone. “You said -”

“We’re not sharing,” John interrupted, and Dean frowned, lifting his head.

“Is that the royal “we”?” Sam asked, tilting his head to the side. “We always -”

“Not tonight,” the eldest Alpha said, not allowing anyone to get a word in. “Y/N stays with me tonight.” You swallowed, feeling the tension thicken between the three of them. “I’m not fighting about it,” John finalized, turning away.

Fixing a reassuring smile onto your face, you turned back to the boys. “It’s okay. He’s in a mood. Probably the whole other hunters thing; Dad doesn’t play nice, remember?” You sucked in a breath. “I promise, I’m all yours when we get back.”

“Mine or his?” Dean asked, glancing over at Sam, who raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Oh, we’re going there?”

“She wants a comparison,” Sam shrugged. “It’s probably the most honest way.”

“You’re disgusting,” you giggled, shaking your head. “I’ll see you boys in the morning!” Turning away, you jogged to catch up with John, finding him waiting in the doorway of the bedroom. “Everything okay?”

He nodded, remaining quiet, indicating that something was eating at him. John waited for you to enter the room, then shut the door and locked it. “Think they’ll actually get some sleep?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “I don’t trust Dean not to run out to that bar…”

“And if he does, he’ll get a mouthful from you and will return to active duty without a problem.” You didn’t look up as you pulled your laundry bag out of the duffel, leaving it on the bed. “One bed, huh?” John smirked, crossing the room to pull you away from what you were doing. “Dad,” you protested, weakly trying to escape his arms.

“Oh, it’s “Dad” now, huh?”

You smiled, pushing lightly at his chest. “Sorry. I forget you prefer “Daddy”,” you purred back, and John groaned, leaning in to steal a kiss from your lips. “Do you mind if I get cleaned up? I feel gross from all the car time.”

“Sure thing,” John replied, nuzzling into your neck. “Just get that sweet little Omega ass back here quickly.” His gaze followed you as you grabbed your things and disappeared into the bathroom, moving as quick as you could to clean up and get changed.

When you came back out, John was sitting in bed, the covers up to his waist and topless. He was scribbling in his journal, and he looked up as you walked over, dressed in panties and a shirt you’d stolen from one of them at some point. It was plain black, and hung on you like a sheet, and as you crawled into the bed beside him, John caught a whiff of its owner.

“You should stop stealing Sam’s shirts, y’know,” he muttered, closing his journal and putting it on the nightstand. He turned to you, moving further down under the covers as you got comfy. “You smell like him.”

“I smell like all three of you. Jealous?” you teased, and John growled, slipping his arm around your middle and dragging you closer.

“Not jealous,” he purred. “As long as you’re okay.”

You nodded, rubbing the tip of your nose against his. “I’m fine, Daddy.” John groaned, and you smiled, placing a hand on his chest. “I missed you.”

“I think I pissed the boys off by stealing you away for the night.”

“They’ve had me for the last two weeks,” you whispered, snuggling closer to him. “I haven’t had a night with you since you came back from that salt and burn.” Your lips pressed against his lightly and John rolled his hips, grinding his lower half into your body. “Need you, Alpha.”

He hummed at the title, his swelling erection poking your belly as he cupped your face and forced a kiss from your lips. You moaned into his mouth, lifting a leg to drape it over his hip. “Need you too, Omega,” he murmured back. 

Words weren’t needed as John’s fingers pulled at your stolen shirt, not stopping until it was off and halfway across the room. He didn’t bother removing your panties, rolling you onto your back, rutting against you. His mouth met yours over and over, his cock catching on the fabric of your panties.

You whined as he kept moving, the tip of his shaft pushing into your over-sensitive clit, and your insides clenched in need. “Daddy, please,” you whispered, growing impatient. John smirked, reaching between your bodies to tug your thin cotton panties to the side. You were already soaked - the influence of three Alphas in a small space for hours on end seemed to have that effect.

“I gotcha,” John rumbled against your throat, guiding his cock into your body. You winced as he stretched you out, keeping his pace slow and steady, building you higher as he went deeper and deeper. “Love you so much, baby girl.”

The only reply you had for him was gasps and fingernail marks in his shoulders where you clung to him. His skin was warm against yours, and you sighed when he leaned down, using his elbows to keep the majority of his weight off of you. He kissed you, hard and deep, almost to the point you couldn’t breathe before he pulled away. It was enough of a pause for a quick gasp of air, but John didn’t seem to want to be able to part from you for more than a few seconds.

“Daddy,” you whispered, avoiding a kiss, and John shook his head.

“Don’t talk,” he ordered softly, his lips hovering over his mark on your neck. You nodded, just holding onto him as he worked through whatever had gotten to him.

He worked you up until you couldn’t take anymore, falling over the edge with a pained cry. When John came without knotting you, something sharp blossomed in your chest - a seed of doubt.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, wiping your thumb underneath his eye.

“I shouldn’t have dragged you along,” he replied, pressing his forehead against yours. “Bobby’s gonna know.” He pulled away, leaving you bereft of his warmth, and you pulled the covers up, keeping your eyes on him as he picked up his discarded pants and slipped them over his feet. “He raised you, too. Took you in after your mom died, and he knows you. He’s gonna know the second he sees you, and I... I can take him looking at me, or the boys, and I can take whispers, but I don’t wanna put you in the middle of that.”

You shook your head, curling your fingers in the covers. “I was nervous about it, too.”

John slumped back down on the edge of the bed, resting his head in his hands. “Maybe you should stay back. At the motel. Stay out of the way -”

“Uh-uh, no way,” you snapped, interrupting him. Anger turned your cheeks dark as you flung the covers away. “You are not benching me.”

“I’m not benching you!” he argued, turning around as you shoved your legs into your pants and fished around for your shirt. “Y/N, stop it.”

“No, I knew you’d do this!” you cried out, hot tears of rage filling your eyes. “I knew, I knew you’d tell me that I have to stay back, to stay home, stay safe. Clean the house and be there waiting for you when you got home like a  _ good little Omega _ . I’m a  _ hunter _ , Dad. Maybe you changed me into an Omega, but you will  _ not _ take away the hunts.”

John stared at you in panic as you tugged your shirt over your head, and then grabbed your duffel. “Wait, where are you going?” he demanded.

“I’m going to stay with Dean and Sam,” you announced. “They won’t bench me.”

“I’m not benching you, I’m trying to protect you!” John cried out, and your hand paused over the doorknob. You glanced back, and he was standing, arms out, begging for you not to go.

“You’re trying to protect me from words, Dad,” you spat. “I can handle that. I’m an adult, I’m not an idiot, and I’m not a weak-willed bitch Omega. I’m the kid you raised. I’m a fucking Winchester.” Twisting the handle, you prepared to leave, until John’s voice rang out and stopped you dead.

“Stop.”

The Alpha command was clear, and you went still, the door open an inch or two as you tried to fight against the gut instinct to obey him. “Don’t do that,” you pleaded, squeezing your eyes shut. “You don’t get to treat me like that.”

“It’s my job to protect you.” John’s voice was plaintive. “You’re my Omega.”

“So I’m more worth to you as an Omega than I was as a daughter?” you asked, finally managing to look at him. “Because that’s what it sounds like. You always… you always wanted this. And now you’re worried I’m not strong enough to take a few words?” A humorless laugh left your lips, and you pulled the door all the way open.

“Y/N -”

“Don’t,” you ground out, stepping out onto the walkway outside the room. “You’re not my only Alpha, and you don’t need me. I’m just convenient.”

For good measure, you slammed the door behind you, making sure you were a good distance away before the tears began to fall. Knocking on the door a few rooms down, you barely waited for Sam to open it before you were barrelling into his arms. “Whoa, what’s wrong?”

“Dad’s an ass,” you sobbed, and Sam glanced at Dean. “He… he wanted to bench me, and then…”

“I’ll go talk to him,” Dean growled, standing up from where he was sat at the desk. You held your hand out, snagging his jacket.

“No. Don’t. Just… leave it. I’m tired, and I wanna sleep.” He hesitated, and Sam reached past you to shut the door, making the decision for his brother. “Please, De?” you whispered and his expression softened.

With a flourished turn, he returned to the desk and the laptop he’d been using. “He better apologize to you in the morning,” he grunted. Sam stroked a hand down your back and you snuggled closer into him, letting him lead you to the bed. “Get some sleep, Y/N. We’ll figure Dad out in the morning.”


	14. Chapter 14

The sun had only just peeked over the tops of the motel roof when John pounded on the door. You and the boys were already up and dressed, ready to go, and you were waiting for the inevitable fight when John tried to bench you again.

Surprisingly, beyond telling you to get in the car, John didn’t say a word about what had happened the night before. The whole car was filled with tense silence. You rode in the back with Sam and Dean kept hold of the map in the front.

The remainder of the journey was short and John’s cell rang about thirty minutes out from the Illinois/Wisconsin state line. He answered and you watched his body language from behind, seeing the way his shoulders went stiff.

“Couple of hours out,” John replied to whoever was on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, we got plenty.” He paused and you glanced at Sam, frowning when you couldn’t see his face. “All three, why?” John’s eyes were on the mirror, meeting yours through the reflection. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you, too,” he murmured, and then hung up.

You didn’t need to ask.

Slumping in the seat, you started going over things that hurt or killed werewolves until Sam caught your attention by sliding his hand over yours. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, “you know we won’t leave you.”

A weak smile pulled at your lips and you slid across the back seat, leaning against him to accept the comfort he offered.

John pulled the car into the far right lane, into a gas station, then stopped the engine. “Last break until Milwaukee,” he announced, purposefully not looking at you, or Sam. “Get something to eat, coffee, whatever.” He climbed out first, then Dean looked over at you.

“Need anything?”

You sighed, burying your face in Sam’s shoulder for a moment before sitting up straight. “I’m gonna use the restroom,” you replied, peeling yourself away and exiting the Impala. Sam and Dean were slow to follow, and you steadfastly ignored John, marching to the rear of the gas station and the ladies’ restroom. 

The mirror in the small room was filthy and cracked, but it showed enough of your reflection that you could clearly see the three bite marks on your throat. You stared at them, then dug around in your bag for the makeup you used for the Fed getup.

Concealer wouldn’t do the job on its own. You needed to make sure the marks weren’t visible up close - there was no getting out of hugs from Ellen or Bobby. Briefly, you wondered if there were any deodorants in the gas station store that would cover your scent. Bobby was Beta anyway - he wouldn’t be able to pick up on the scent.

Maybe it was better to be safe rather than sorry.

The door to the bathroom opened, and you ignored it, assuming it was another female customer. Then the lock clicked into place and your head snapped up, guilt filling you as John’s dark gaze stared you down.

“Hiding your marks?” he asked, one eyebrow arched high as he folded his arms across his chest.

“I just thought -” You swallowed around the lump in your throat, ashamed at what you’d tried to do. “I’m sorry. I thought it would be easier if he didn’t know.”

John watched you for a moment, his expression unreadable. You waited, unsure of what he was going to do. When he moved, you flinched, and he growled at the reaction, grabbing your ponytail with one hand, using the rest of his body to force you against the sink. “You don’t cover your marks,” he ordered, grinding into you painfully. You cried out with hot tears in your eyes. “None of them. You belong to us. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

“I know!” you whimpered, unable to stop yourself pushing back against him. John groaned, his cock hardening against your ass. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t -”

His free hand was pushing your pants down, and you bucked at the movement, stilling when John shoved his fingers between your thighs. You were already wet, and you fell against the mirror, your hot breath fogging the dirty glass.

John’s feet shoved yours apart, as far as they would go in the confines of your jeans, and lined himself up with your pussy. With one brutal shove, he was inside you to the root. The sudden thickness filling you pulled a scream from your throat, but the sound was cut short when his hand clamped over your mouth to silence you.

“Be quiet, baby girl,” he hissed. “This won’t take long.” His other hand was still buried between your thighs, one finger curling over your clit repeatedly. John grunted, his breath hot against your neck, and you clung to the sink and wall for stability as he fucked you hard enough to lift your feet from the ground.

When he came, you couldn’t hold onto your control, and you climaxed with him, whimpering as John drew away quickly, letting you collapse against the dirty porcelain with cum dripping down your thighs into your pants. He cleaned up, tucking his softening cock back into his pants, standing over you as you tried to catch your breath and collect yourself.

“You don’t cover your marks,” he repeated, moving towards the door and unlocking it. “And I doubt you could cover the scent now.” You nodded, slowly getting to your feet and pulling your pants up. John opened the door when you were covered, pausing as he started to leave. “You’re up front until we get to Milwaukee.”

Another nod was your answer, and he walked away, leaving you behind.

When you rejoined him and the boys at the car, both of them were looking at you funny, but you didn’t say anything as you slid into the front seat. There was no way they wouldn’t scent you, and with the way John was smirking, it was easy to figure out what had happened.

“We good?” John asked everyone in the car, although it felt like the question was directed at you.

“We’re good,” Dean replied, and Sam nodded. John’s eyes fell on you, and you nodded, offering him a repentant smile. He reached over, grasping your knee and squeezing it briefly before letting go.

Starting the car, John grinned and turned the stereo on. “Then let’s get moving.”

*****

The meeting spot was at a warehouse outside of town, a half mile away from where the suspected werewolves were hiding out. When John pulled the Impala into the space next to Bobby’s pick-up, you swallowed, remembering summers spent learning to drive the damn thing.

By the time you were eight, you could parallel park like a pro, although you still needed a phone book to see over the steering wheel.

Ellen’s sedan was parked a few meters away along with a few other cars that you didn’t recognize. For a moment, you wondered about Jo - she was your age and you had once been good friends with her. This would be the first time you’d seen any of the Harvelles since Bill died.

“John Winchester,” yelled a familiar voice, and you turned to see Bobby, whose attention promptly landed on you. “And there she is,” he chuckled, opening his arms. You ran towards him, hugging him tightly, and Bobby laughed at the enthusiasm. “Yeah, I miss you too, Weed.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Then stop growin’ like one,” Bobby replied, holding you at arm's length. “I swear you got taller.”

“She’s the same height she always was,” Dean provided. “Short.” You turned to glare at him, but Bobby was still chuckling.

“Never mind him,” he said, “how’ve you been, sweetheart?”

“I’m good,” you replied, smiling brightly, and you felt John shift behind you, one hand on the small of your back. Bobby’s eyes narrowed a touch at the movement, and you rushed to cover it up. “How have you been? Did you get a date with Mona yet?”

“Who’s Mona?” Sam asked, and Bobby’s scruffy cheeks turned a little red.

“She’s a friend. And no. She did make me a real nice pie last week though -”

“Bobby!” Ellen Harvelle’s sharp tone rang across the yard and the older man swallowed nervously. “Stop lollygagging.”

“Ellen’s on the warpath. These wolves took out a good friend o’hers.” Bobby advised, and John nodded, waiting until the older man turned before nudging you forward. “Now, we’re waitin’ on a couple others, but we figure we go in at sundown. Moon’s on the second day of the cycle.”

Dean overtook you, flashing you a smile before drawing ahead with Bobby. “How many wolves?”

Your attention faded as you laid eyes on Ellen. She was stood with her arms crossed, leaning against a truck that had personalized number plates. It was easy to tell when she picked up your scent;her eyes widened and nostrils flared. Worry colored your cheeks, making you pull away from John a little too fast, almost walking right into Bobby.

He turned when your foot clipped his heel. “Whoa, you okay there?” Ellen was staring at you now, and Bobby was quick to notice. “What’s wrong?” He glanced at Ellen, then back to you. “Could someone tell me what’s goin’ on?”

Two other hunters, along with Rufus Turner - an old friend of Bobby’s - came into view, and you shook your head as John opened his mouth. The two newcomers were not men you recognized, and the taller of the two, built like Sam but with more thickness to him, immediately zeroed in on you.

“Omega hunters?” he murmured to the other newcomer, who arched an eyebrow.

“I’m not doin’ a wolf hunt with an Omega in tow,” his companion said loudly, and Dean tensed, his fists curling at his sides. “She stinks.”

“Fuck you,” you seethed, about ready to jump into a fight. John’s hand slipped around your wrist, tugging you back. “Let me go!”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” he hissed, only to find Dean suddenly pushing him back. “Dean, what the hell?”

“Go sit in the car,” Dean ordered, and you turned a fiery gaze on him. “Y/N -”

“No! You’re not benching me either. Just because I’m a goddamn Omega now doesn’t mean I can’t fight like the rest of you,” you yelled, moving away from all of them. “I  _ knew _ this would happen.” Bobby reached out, trying to catch you, but you were too fast. “Don’t. Just. Don’t,” you ground out, turning to stomp away from them all.

Once you were out of sight, you started to cry. The whole time driving up here, you’d worried about reactions to you being an Omega, or being an Omega claimed by her own family. You hadn’t even thought about other hunters’ reaction to your status. How they’d assume you were useless, unable to fight or hunt or do anything that would contribute.

This was it now.

The decision to change you would leave you at a disadvantage. Omegas were homemakers, caregivers, parents, lovers… they weren’t fighters. They weren’t hunters.

Chest-racking sobs made you bury your head in your hands and sink to the floor in the dust.

Did they want you like this? Submissive and weak. John hadn’t argued against it, and you didn’t know if the boys would bother. But then, you supposed the real question was…

...did you still want to fight?


	15. Chapter 15

“Wanna explain why there’s three marks on her neck?” Ellen asked, still leaning against the car, but looking thoroughly unimpressed by the situation. Bobby’s chest was heaving, his rage plain as day on his face. “John Winchester -”

“It’s not against the law,” John replied with an even tone, “and it happens to be none of your fucking business.”

Bobby’s entire face went red and Rufus placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder to calm him. “Now, I got a feelin’ that Bobby ain’t too impressed with you right now, John,” Rufus started, keeping his eyes on Bobby. “But one of y’all needs to go and check on the girl.” He glanced at Sam and Dean, jerking his head. “One of you two. Now.”

“I’ll go,” Dean replied, patting Sam’s shoulder blade and leaving him to the drama.

“That girl was Alpha. She’s been Alpha since she was six years old,” Bobby ground out, shaking his head. “Ain’t no Omega in the world that’s as bull headed as her.”

John resisted the urge to fold his arms over his chest. He needed to be free to take a swing if need be. “She’s Omega, Bobby. Presented and everything.” Sam’s eyes dropped and Bobby knew the boy’s father was lying. “What happened, happened. She’s safe. She’s got three Alphas watchin’ her back.”

“Why’d you even bring her?” one of the newer hunters asked, sneering as he posed his question. “She’s a liability in any hunt, let alone a werewolf pack hunt.”

“She’s a Winchester,” Sam replied. “We hunt.”

“ _Omegas_ stay at home and look after the pups,” the other hunter sneered.

John darted forward before anyone else could, grabbing the man by the lapels of his coat. The other Alpha had the sense to look terrified - the eldest Winchester had inches and weight on him by a mile. “It’s not polite to question another Alpha over his Omega.”

“John.”

Ellen’s voice was calm but strong, and John remained still, anger surging in his belly. He wanted to tear the guy to pieces.

“John. Put Oscar down.”

He didn’t move, and Ellen placed one hand on his shoulder.

“Put him down, or I swear to God, I will kick your ass into next week.” John’s hands relaxed but he didn’t let go. Ellen’s eyes narrowed. “Your Omega needs you.”

His fingers released Oscar, who scurried backwards. Bobby turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving the rest of the hunters in silence. Sam shuffled on the spot, unsure what to do. Thankfully, Ellen stepped up, keeping a hold on John’s shoulder.

“Oscar, Waylan, Rufus, can you check the inventory. John and I will check on Y/N and Dean - and Sam -” she turned to the youngest Winchester brother, “go and talk to Bobby.” Oscar turned as soon as he received instruction, leaving Waylan and Rufus to rush after him. Sam jogged off in the direction Bobby had gone, and John looked at Ellen. “You. Talk. Now.”

*****

Dean had his arms around you as you cried, soaking the sleeve of his jacket. He held you close, rocking back and forth on the stony ground, soothing you with quiet hums. One hand rubbed your side and you burrowed closer when you heard raised voices in the distance.

“It’s okay, baby girl,” Dean murmured, trying to coax you from the shelter of his arms. “Y/N, this is -”

“I’m a hunter,” you stated, your words muffled by your sobs. “I’m a Winchester. I can do this.” You sniffed loudly, lifting bleary eyes to the Alpha. “This is all I know _how_ to do.”

Dean shook his head, kissing your forehead hard, clutching your head to his chest. “You’re a hunter. No one’s gonna bench you, sweetheart, I promise.”

“Dad tried,” you replied, pulling back from him. He frowned, tilting his head. “And now Bobby knows, and I… I... “ You hiccuped, on the verge of hyperventilating. “I should feel wrong and dirty and I do but only because I don’t, because I belong here, like this, being yours and Sam’s and John’s, but I’m a hunter, I’m a _good_ hunter -”

“Y/N, calm down,” Dean urged, worry making the line between his eyebrows deeper. Your wide panicked eyes were on his, and you swallowed, almost choking on your own saliva. “Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.” You nodded along, sucking in a lungful of air and holding it for a couple of second, before breathing back out, following his instructions. “Good girl,” he praised, turning as he heard the crunch of footsteps behind him.

Ellen was approaching with John, and both of them looked serious, although the expressions were different. She looked angry, and John… John was looking a little frightened.

“Dad’s coming, with Ellen.”

You raised your head, anxiety rising again as the two older hunters came to a stop near you and Dean. Ellen crouched down at your side, cupping your face with a soft smile. “You okay, honey?” Managing a weak smile, you faced the older woman, who rubbed your cheek with her thumb. “Don’t worry about Bobby. As long as you’re happy, and healthy -” The insinuation was heavy, and John cleared his throat, earning a fresh glare from Ellen.

“I am,” you assured her. “I just don’t wanna give up hunting.”

“No one’s making you give it up, princess,” John murmured, shaking his head. “That’s your decision. I just want you safe.”

“You need to let me be me,” you replied, giving him a look that made your insides turn to jelly with the effort. It was hard to defy your Alpha, and you needed to make sure he understood. “I know how this is supposed to work, I do, but I’m a Winchester. I’m not gonna sit at home and knit booties while you guys go out and save the world. I don’t work like that.”

John smiled, and Dean scoffed, nodding his head. “You got that right,” he agreed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Where are the others?”

Ellen gestured to the parked cars. “Rufus took the other two to prep the ammo. Sam’s talkin’ to Bobby -” You got to your feet, but the older woman held you back with one hand. “Leave it. We need to run over the hunt. It’ll be night soon and we gotta take this pack down.”

*****

Bobby stood at the fence, looking out over the empty fields, his arms folded over his chest to stop himself from lashing out or storming back there and knocking John’s head off his shoulders.

He should never have let this happen.

“She’s safe, you know,” Sam called, walking up behind the older man, and Bobby’s jaw clenched. The wind tugged at his trucker cap as he turned to face Sam, his expression grim.

“How long?” Sam frowned like he was confused by the question, and Bobby sighed. “When did she present, Sam?”

“A few weeks ago,” the younger man said slowly, watching Bobby pinch the bridge of his nose. “Nothing happened before that. I promise.” Sam moved a little closer, but the old hunter held his hand out, halting his approach. “Bobby, we wouldn’t -”

“I taught her to tie her damn shoelaces, Sam!” he snapped, anger painting his face a volatile shade of red. “I raised that girl for nine years. I should never have let him take her!” Sam’s nostrils flared as he tried not to react to the thought of a different life with his half-sister… his Omega. “She was a kid. She’s _still_ a kid. And she was never gonna present as an Omega, she was as Alpha as her damn mom!”

Sam shook his head, gritting his teeth. “And that got her mom killed. She’s a Winchester, Bobby, she _belonged_ with us. That’s why you let her go.”

Bobby laughed but it was an angry sound. His eyes flashed as he squared up to Sam, who clenched his fists at his side. “I don’t give a damn that’s she’s a Winchester. She’s more my daughter than she was ever John’s, and now look what he’s fucking done to her.” Sam’s cheeks were crimson and Bobby knew the truth just from his expression. “Did he even tell you what conversion can do?”

“He said it was safer. He said we needed her as much as she needed us -”

“And since when do you do what Daddy says?” Bobby jabbed a finger into his shoulder and Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Since when do you obey orders, Sam? You never wanted the life, then suddenly you’re not going to college, not trying to be normal -”

“I’m not normal!” Sam yelled, his anger exploding out of him. “I’m not normal,” he repeated, his voice at a lower level. “And Y/N isn’t either. She never has been. And she’s… Bobby, I love her. Dean loves her. Dad loves her.”

“It’s wrong,” Bobby stated, calmly.

“It’s not against the law,” Sam countered, spreading his arms. “Conversion isn’t illegal everywhere, and she’s… she’s happy, Bobby. We’ll do anything for her. She’s protected.”

“You brought her on a hunt,” the older man returned, turning away in disgust. “Omegas aren’t built -”

“She wasn’t an Omega to start with.” Sam’s quiet statement rendered Bobby speechless, and he sighed heavily. “Hunting is in our blood. I’m not gonna let anyone take that away from her. Not you, not Ellen, not Dad.”

“What about you?” Bobby asked, over his shoulder. “What about the plans you had?”

Sam looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. “My plans… it wouldn’t have worked out. I would have got someone hurt. Winchesters tend to come with death and destruction.”

Slowly, Bobby raised his head, turning to fix his gaze on Sam as Ellen’s voice rang across the lot. “Think about that when you keep claiming she’s safe. She’s not safe. She’s a target.” He moved, pushing past Sam as the boy stood in shock at his words. “You may as well have killed her yourself.”

*****

Ellen held your hand tightly, keeping you by her side, and you knew exactly why she was doing it. John and Dean trailed behind, and your insecurities continued to grow as the older woman led you into the warehouse. Rufus and the other two hunters were sorting through the weapons on a large table, a map of the area laid out beside them.

“You two,” Ellen directed Dean and John to the table, “work with Rufus, get us a game plan.” John narrowed his eyes, stepping forward and opening his mouth, but Ellen held up a hand. “No arguing, Winchester,” she snapped. “I need to talk to Y/N without any bull-headed Alphas around.”

“Ellen,” you started, but the hand was directed at you and you fell silent, looking up to meet John’s eyes.

The older woman tugged you away into the adjoining room, closing the door and finally letting you go. Your first instinct was to bolt, but Ellen blocked the door. “Y/N.”

“It’s not what you think,” you muttered, hugging yourself.

“You’ve got three Alpha marks on your throat,” she pointed out. “I’ve never seen an Omega so content with being claimed like that. Let alone by her own family.”

“It’s not illegal,” you replied, shrugging. “And you’re right, they’re my family. I belong with them.”

Ellen shook her head, running a hand through her long hair. “Did they force you?” Your eyes were wide when you looked directly at her, shaking your head. “When did you present?”

Thinking back, you tried to remember exactly how long it had been, but the details were fuzzy. “I went into rut just before -”

“Wait,” Ellen stopped you, frowning, doing the math in her head. “You went into _rut_?” She moved closer, reaching out to take your arms. “Did John convert you?” she demanded, shock making her eyes widen. “Answer me, Y/N. Did you present as Alpha?”

“Yes!” you cried out, trying to pull away from her. “You’re hurting me, Ellen.” She relaxed her hold a little, but didn’t let go. “They’re my family, Ellen. I would have been miserable as an Alpha.”

“Did John tell you that?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. Her sympathetic expression made you feel sick. “Y/N, being an Alpha -”

You pulled away, growling in frustration. “They _need_ me, Ellen. Sam and Dean have little to no chance at finding an Omega. I know what happens to unmated Alphas, and I’m not gonna watch my brothers die.” Anguish made your throat close and you turned wet eyes onto the older hunter. “I can’t… I’m happy, okay? I’m safe, and I’m loved -”

Ellen looked desperately sad, and you paused, staring at her. “I can’t believe he did this to you…”

“It’s okay,” you assured her. “The change wasn’t so bad.” Her expression didn’t change. “What?”

She sighed, looking back to the closed door. “I doubt the boys know, although I’m surprised Sam didn’t research the risks.”

“Risks?”

Ellen’s voiced dropped, and she spoke your name slowly, making sure she had your attention. “Alpha to Omega… it’s risky. And in most cases… leaves the Omega infertile…” She trailed off as horror filled your face. “Y/N, there’s a good chance you’re never gonna be able to have pups.”


	16. Chapter 16

The news that Ellen had given you left you sullen and quiet during the entire briefing. You hung back, keeping close to Sam, avoiding being alone with John, who immediately noticed the difference in you. Bobby kept looking at you, and when Rufus put you and your former guardian at the same post, you swallowed, expecting another lecture.

He didn’t speak to you when you climbed into the truck, and ten minutes down the road, his silence finally made you crack. “I know you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Bobby replied, keeping his voice even but not looking at you. His hands tightened around the wheel and his jaw clenched underneath his scruff. “I’m mad at John. He’s supposed to be your father.” You didn’t answer, unsure what to even say. There wasn’t an easy way to approach a sex talk with the guy who’d changed your diapers. “He was supposed to take care of you. Not… not…” He sighed, shaking his head. “I can’t even say it.”

“I’m sorry I disappointed you,” you murmured, your tone low. “But I’m safe.” He laughed humorlessly, and you scowled at the dash. “I am, Uncle Bobby, they’re -”

“I really don’t need details,” he hastened to stop you. “You’re never going to be safe with them. Winchesters attract trouble -”

Your fist hit the dashboard with a thud, making Bobby’s hands shake on the wheel in surprise. He side-eyed you as you seethed openly. “I  _ am _ a Winchester, Bobby. That’s my last name. WInchester. So if Winchesters attract trouble, then it doesn’t matter if I’m a fucking Omega or not!”

There was a silence that seemed to stretch on forever with only your heavy, angry breathing to fill it. Bobby kept focused on the road, not speaking until you sat back in your seat, folding your arms over your chest.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, not looking at you. “John’s in the middle of a revenge mission, which you’ve been dragged into, and he’s convincing you that you’re the only thing to stop Dean and Sam getting sick from ruts.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, calming yourself. “I am,” you insisted, glancing at him pointedly. “We’re hunters. We’re not going to have normal lives.”

“Sam was going to college. When he was eighteen he asked me to sign his forms,” Bobby snapped back. “He was going for normal. What the hell changed his mind?”

Throwing your hands up, you made a frustrated noise. “I don’t know! All I cared was that he was staying. Things were different for me, Bobby. These feelings, this whole thing, it was starting before I even knew it. And I  _ know _ I should feel angry, and awful, and disturbed by the things I’ve done, the things I’m doing, but - but -” Ellen’s words came back to you and you wiped furiously at the tears gathering in your eyes. “I can’t. And I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

“You started it,” Bobby muttered, giving you a sideways glance. “I don’t wanna talk about it either. The more I think about it -” He stopped, wincing. “I came out for a hunt, not a soap opera.”

“We should focus on killing things,” you joked, breaking the tension. Bobby laughed and you looked over at him, smiling. “I do miss you, Uncle Bobby. But you don’t have to worry about me.”

He smiled wryly, sighing and patting your hand. “I miss you too, sweetheart.”

*****

The abandoned farmhouse was pitch black as you surveyed it from the car, parked a few hundred meters away. Bobby pulled out his phone, reading the text Ellen had just sent him. “They’re in position.”

“This should be easy, right?” you asked, feeling a little apprehensive.

Bobby grinned. “You’ve hunted plenty of werewolves. And there’s enough of us to take this pack down.” Your eyes wandered over to the house, and the darkness that  _ your _ pack were out in. It was disconcerting to be so far away from all of them; probably because it was the first time you’d been without them since your rut.

A light flashed twice in the distance. “That’s our cue,” you whispered, slowly moving out of the truck. The older hunter followed, loading his shotgun with silver rounds.

Your fingers closed around your colt as you started to move towards the house, keeping low to the ground, occasionally checking Bobby was still behind you. There was nothing until you reached the broken down fence around the perimeter of the property, and you spotted Rufus with Ellen in the distance.

“Can you see anything?” Bobby grunted, and you shook your head.

Gunshots rang out and you bolted forward, panicking when you heard Dean yell in pain. Your fear drove you on and you broke through the door with a snarl, uncaring of the dark or unfamiliar territory. “Dean,” you cried out, and Sam’s body exploded through the wooden wall nearest to you, knocking you down. You cursed as you hit the floor, struggling to recover your composure as a werewolf burst through after your brother.

The bullet struck him in the heart, and he went down, giving you enough time to scramble over to Sam, checking him over.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he rushed out. “Dean went downstairs with Oscar.” You helped him to his feet, and he waved you off. “I’m fine, Dean needs backup.”

You nodded, sprinting towards the sounds of fighting, narrowly avoiding another wolf bursting through a broken door. The sudden attack made you slide to the floor, and you tumbled down the stairs into the claws of a different wolf. You screamed in anger, kicking it in the face, and the monster stumbled backwards, clutching its broken nose.

Dean was on the floor, struggling to keep another werewolf down, and Oscar was on the floor, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle and blood smeared across his face. “Dean,” you screeched, fear making you careless for your own well-being. The wolf you’d kicked grabbed your ankle, pulling hard enough to swing you off of the floor and into a wooden beam, and you cried out in pain, slamming to the floor. Your antagonist closed in, reaching down with one viciously clawed hand, tearing through your jacket and into the fragile skin below.

It was agony, more pain than you’d ever felt, and the sound you made was piercing. A split second later, the claws were gone, and something moved in a blur to shield you where you lay. Chancing a glimpse upwards, you saw Dean, teeth bared and sharper than you’d ever seen them. You whimpered in pain, and he glanced down, his eyes glowing softly in the dim light of the basement.

Something trickled down your back, then the floor and equilibrium were slipping out from beneath you. “Stay awake!” Dean snarled, his attention taken by another two wolves descending the stairs.

As consciousness escaped you, an angry, bone shaking roar was the last thing you heard.

*****

“Now we’ve got two dead hunters, Rufus was shot, and Y/N’s out cold.”

You felt like you were swimming through tar and your eyes were too heavy to open. The raised voices were indistinct, but the words were clear.

“You rushed it. You were too busy comparing cock size with Oscar to focus. She went for  _ you _ , Dean.”

“Oscar went off ahead. I was following him to drag him back!”

“What does it matter? We can’t change anything.”

Twitching your fingers was the limit of your movement, and even that took a lot of effort. You couldn’t feel much of anything, and talking was out of the question.

“Is she gonna be okay?” This voice was lower and closer to you, and you tried to place it.

“Once I’ve got these claw marks stitched up, she’ll be good to go, but she’ll need to rest.” Claw marks? What had happened to you? “She’s waking up. She’s gonna be groggy; I shot her up with a dose of morphine.” There was a pause. “Another inch and she wouldn’t be walking again, Sam.”

Well, that explained a lot. You relaxed a little, feeling a weight on your back, and your attention drifted back to the argument.

“Are we not gonna discuss the fangs?”

“No, we’re not.”

“Ouch, woman. You’re finished mutilatin’ her, you ain’t comin’ near me.”

“Rufus, don’t be a wimp.”

“No thank you, ma’am, gimme that whiskey and I’ll do it m’self.”

“Rufus.”

“Ellen, just leave him.”

Silence for a little, and your eyes cracked open a little, giving you a blurry view of the room. Ellen was handing over a bottle of strong whiskey to Rufus, who had half his shirt off and a bleeding wound in his arm. Sam was sat next to you, stroking your hair out of your face, and you inhaled deeply, looking directly at him.

“Hey,” he whispered.

The argument across the room was between Dean and John, although Bobby looked like he was refereeing. Dean had a black eye and a deep gash on his chin; John’s shirt was spattered with blood, but he appeared unharmed.

Words still wouldn’t come for you, and you sighed, prompting Sam to rub your shoulder, although you couldn’t really feel it. “It’s okay. They’ll calm down,” he assured you, flinching as Dean punched a wall.

“You’re really just gonna ignore it?” Bobby asked, looking at John incredulously. “Because if my kid’s eyes were freakin’ glowin’ and he had teeth like he was trick or treatin’ -”

“He’s not  _ your _ kid,” John yelled, squaring up to the other hunter. Bobby glared at him, and you twitched your fingers again. “They’re  _ my _ kids, Bobby, and you need -”

“You can’t claim that when you knotted your own fuckin’ daughter, John!” Bobby roared back. You shut your eyes, unwilling to see it, not having a choice but to hear it. Your lips twitched, and you felt a twinge of pain in your lower back.

John’s fist collided with Bobby’s jaw and the older man went down hard, grunting as he hit the floor. Dean grabbed his dad, putting him in an arm lock as Ellen rushed to Bobby’s side, helping him up.

“That’s enough!” Rufus yelled, throwing down the now-empty bottle of whiskey, the glass scattering in shards across the floor. He grimaced at the pain in his arm. “I’m tryin’ to sew a straight line here and none of you idjits are doin’ anythin’ productive. The wolves are dead. We lost two, it’s sad, it happens.” He pointed at John, who was seething in Dean’s hold. “You were an idiot to bring her here. It don’t matter how good a hunter she is; Omegas around unfamiliar Alphas will cause problems.” His attention went to Dean. “Y’all need to figure out that fang thing, ‘cause that ain’t right.” He pointed to Bobby in turn, where Ellen was helping him up off of the floor. “And if the girl has told you she’s alright, which she had plenty of time to do on the way over, then she’s alright. It happens, man, my cousin ended up with her daddy and she was perfectly happy.” Rufus shrugged, picking up the needle. “Now, shut the fuck up while I sew this up.”

“Why don’t I -” Sam started, only to have the needle pointed at him.

“None of y’all can sew straight. You claim you can, but I seen them wonky scars on your skinny pale ass, boy. I’ll do it myself,” Rufus affirmed, and the room fell silent.

The last of your meager energy ran out and your breathing evened out just as you managed to curl your fingers around Sam’s.


	17. Chapter 17

The seat underneath you wasn’t the Impala, but Sam’s scent was strong on the thigh your head was on. You could feel your extremities properly now, but along with that came the pain from the wounds on your back. A whimper left you and your eyes snapped open.

“Hey, hey,” Sam murmured, one hand stroking your head tenderly. “It’s okay.”

You saw Bobby at the wheel, his eyes focused on the road in burgeoning sunlight, and you frowned. “Uncle Bobby?”

Sam glanced up, meeting the older hunter’s eyes in the mirror. “Yeah. Dad and Dean had to take off on another hunt and you’re in no shape to be doing any of that,” he explained, still stroking your hair. “We’re gonna go back to Bobby’s and wait for you to rest up.”

“Why aren’t we going back to the house?” you asked, trying not to frown as your head started to pound from your injuries. “Why -”

“Less questions,” Sam ordered softly. “I’m gonna take care of you and they’ll be back in a couple of days, okay?”

“Did you know?” Your voice was whisper silent, and Sam frowned. “About… about the risks?” He felt silent, but his expression was more confusion than guilt. “You were gonna go to college and you changed your mind overnight. Why didn’t you go?”

Sam sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest for a second, composing his answer. “I was gonna leave because I didn’t want to hunt. But Dad… Dad told me I couldn’t. That you’d need me.”

“So you knew?” Pain lanced your heart and you swallowed thickly, wishing you had the strength to move away from him. “Sam, I was fourteen…”

“I know,” he interrupted. “Dad never made it sound like that. He never… he never said anything about you  _ not _ being Omega. It was kinda assumed, and Dean wouldn’t talk about it. All I knew was that Dad made it sound like if I left, you’d die, and I couldn’t handle that.”

“He never told you about the risk of conversion?” you pressed, and Sam shook his head. “Have you looked them up since? Did you know that most Alpha to Omega converts end up infertile?” Tears were gathering in the corners of your eyes and Sam looked horrified. “That’s why he didn’t make such a fuss over babies, over my future or having a family. Most Omegas are infertile after the change.” You were freely sobbing now, and the need to leave Sam’s side had done a complete turnaround, and you craved more of his comforting scent. “He’s hoping he never has to cross that bridge.”

“There’s still a chance,” Sam leaned down, kissing your forehead. “You’re good at beating the odds,” he added, prompting you to smile a little through your tears. “Let’s just get you healed up. We’ll deal with Dad when he comes back.”

Bobby turned the truck off the road and pulled it to a stop. “I’m going to get gas. You two want anything?”

“Gummy bears,” you responded instantly, and he smiled. “Please.”

“Gummy bears, gotcha,” the old man replied, looking at Sam, who shook his head. Bobby nodded, climbing out of the truck and heading towards the store. You closed your eyes, snuggling into Sam as much as your injuries would allow.

By the time Bobby came back with your gummy bears, you were asleep.

*****

Being back in your childhood home was weird. Bobby hadn’t changed much - even the old battered television was the same. Dust clung to every surface, and you took a nostalgic breath as Sam helped you through into the sitting room.

“Smells like books and whiskey,” you murmured, still woozy from the painkillers. Sam smiled, kissing your forehead, aiding your attempts to lay down. It was difficult to keep your concentration, and you let your eyes flutter closed.

“Oh no,” Bobby snapped, tapping your leg. “No fallin’ asleep on the couch.”

“‘M tired,” you mumbled back, not moving.

Bobby shook his head, nudging Sam with his elbow, and the younger man rolled his eyes as he bent down. “C’mon, Y/N,” he whispered, stroking your cheek. “Why don’t I take you up to your room?”

You opened one eye, glaring at him for ruining the little bit of comfort you’d found. “Only if you carry me and I get snuggles.” His eyebrow arched and Bobby grunted in disapproval. “G rated snuggles,” you amended with a tired smile.

“That’s better,” Bobby grumbled, moving towards the kitchen. “No funny business under my roof.” Sam watched him go before looking back at you.

“Come on,” Sam repeated, sliding his arms underneath you carefully to lift your smaller frame. His chest was firm and warm and you clung to him like a spider monkey, making him laugh. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“ _ You’re _ a pain in the ass,” you retorted, your voice muffled by his jacket collar. Sam chuckled, carrying you towards the stairs, slowly ascending until he reached the top landing. The room that had been yours growing up was at the end of the hall, and Sam didn’t stop until he could lean down and set you on the bed.

He moved to push the door closed as you tried to get comfortable, unable to do so with your shoes on. Sam closed the curtains, and dropped to his knees beside the bed, helping you get your boots off, along with your pants. “My back itches,” you complained, tugging at your shirt, but lifting your arms was a problem.

As expected, Sam was there to help, and you lay in only your panties as he checked your wounds over. “They’re starting to knit together now. Stitches are holding.”

“How long do you reckon I’ll be watching the ceiling?” you asked, sighing as he walked around the end of the bed towards the small ensuite. It only contained a sink and toilet, but it was all you needed with the main bathroom down the hall.

Wasn’t like you could shower with holes in your back.

Sam returned with a cold flannel, and began to clean away the excess blood on your skin, using gentle, soothing strokes that made your eyelids feel heavier by the second. Your muscles relaxed, and you started to drift, becoming unaware of your surroundings.

At some point, Sam stopped touching you, but you didn’t mind. The painkillers were doing their job, allowing you to heal, and for all you’d known, you could have slept for months without being disturbed.

It was sunlight when you opened your eyes, blinking to clear the haze of sleep. You were alone in the bed, but not in the room.

“She’s healing okay?” Dean’s voice. Your heart leaped at the sound of it.

Wasn’t he supposed to be with John?

“She’s been out for about 38 hours,” Sam replied, and you could hear how tired he was. Had he watched over you this entire time?

“What are we gonna tell her?” Dean asked, lowering his voice, and you frowned, debating whether to roll over and tell them you were away.

“The truth,” Sam answered, his tone firm. “I’ve been researching and Ellen was right. Alpha females have low fertility. The conversion only works on a physical level - we can’t change her basic genetic structure. From what I’ve read, the act of changing an Alpha into an Omega is more of a defense mechanism. It’s why they outlawed it most places.”

There were tears rolling down your face now, but you remained silent. Sam sounded almost broken, and you heard his chair creak when he leaned forward, scrubbing his hands over his face. Dean didn’t say anything, and you opened your eyes slowly, preparing to let them know you were awake.

“I also found out about your weird eye thing,” Sam said suddenly, and you froze again, listening intently. “A genetic research facility in Colorado found a recessive gene. It was active in 3% of Alphas and over half of them are carriers.”

“A recessive gene?” Dean repeated. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Gene AF92. Nicknamed the “Pack” gene,” Sam continued, standing up. “It normally comes from the father’s side. The gene causes increased speed, strength, and, with Alphas, allows them to share an Omega.” He paused, and you tried to wrap your head around what that means. “They also noticed in some of their subjects, a change in the colour and composition of the iris, and elongated teeth, like our early ancestors.”

“You think I have that?”

Sam chuckled, and you imagined he was shaking his head. “No. I think  _ we _ have that. If Dad’s a carrier, then we may all have the active gene. This study? Sixty percent of the packs they monitored were brothers, sisters, close relations of some sort. It’s an evolutionary thing - millions of years ago, humans had to  _ fight _ to survive. And sometimes, that meant sharing an Omega to increase the chances of… well, you get where I’m going.”

Dean laughed under his breath, and you decided that it was time to “wake up.” You stretched your legs, grunting a little for effect, before you reached out an arm to try and sit up. 

It hurt like an absolute bitch, and Sam was at your side in a second, helping you into a seated position. “I need to put my legs over,” you mumbled, unable to stand the stretching of the skin across your healing back. Unfortunately, as soon as your knees bent, your bladder woke up. “Okay, scratch that, I need to pee.”

Sam grinned, offering you his assistance to get to the bathroom, and it was embarrassing to have to shuffle there. But he was all gentleman, helping you in, before allowing you privacy. When you were done, you knocked on the door, and he helped you back towards the bed.

“Could I sit in the armchair?” you asked, looking over at Dean who was currently occupying that particular seat. “I’m kinda done with bed.” Your elder brother stood, gesturing to the chair, taking hold of your arm from Sam and helping you to sit slowly. “Thanks, guys. Trust me to get beat up by a dog,” you joked, looking over at them gratefully. Sam returned to his seat, while Dean sat on the bed, watching you closely. “Not that it’s not great to see you, Dean, because it is, and Sam needs some sleep,” you inhaled, tilting your head to the side quizzically. “What are you doing here and where’s Dad?”

Dean glanced at Sam, who looked uncomfortable, and you instantly knew what they said next would be a lie. “He’s on a hunt.”

“Without you?” you asked, and he swallowed.

“He asked me to go back to the house, get you some things while you stayed here to recuperate.”

“And I couldn’t go back to the house, why?”

Dean shrugged. “He didn’t say, specifically. Just that it was better for you to stay here.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Where’s John, Dean?”

Sam held out his hand in an effort to calm you. “We don’t know. Dean hasn’t spoken to him in two days.”

“Okay, no, this… this  _ whatever _ that we’re doing. There’s no secrets. No lies.” Your voice lowered to a whisper. “Not anymore.” The previous anger you’d felt towards John and his deception by omission bubbled to the surface like steam from water, and your throat tightened. “Ellen told me. About… that the chances of me ever being a mother are slim.” You swallowed, trying to look at their faces, frightened of the pity you’d see there.

Things had changed.

Sam spoke first, moving closer to your seat and dropping his knees in front of you. He was still your height, even crouched, and his eyes focused on yours with an intensity that made you want to cry. “No more lies,” he agreed, taking your hands. “I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t mean much -”

You shook your head, interrupting him, a single tear tracking down your cheek.

He wiped it away, smiling gently.

“You lost the chance too, Sam,” you whispered but he didn’t stop smiling.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve got you and Dean. All the family I need.” His hand lingered on your cheek and you hiccuped a sob, nodding slowly. Sam leaned up, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you into an embrace, while being careful of your injuries.

“Sammy’s right,” Dean murmured, locking eyes with you over your brother’s shoulder. “And we won’t lie to you anymore.”

“Where’s Dad?” you asked, pulling back from Sam to look at them both.

“We don’t know,” Sam answered honestly and you frowned.

“You don’t know?”

“He sent me back to the house for your things and told me to keep you here. Gave me the Impala and took Oscar’s truck. Then he went east and I haven’t been able to get ahold of him since.” Dean sighed, lifting his arms in the air to signal his defeat. “Sam’s tried, Bobby’s tried -”

“I haven’t,” you interrupted. “He’ll answer me.”

Sam gave you a doubtful look. “We already told him you were worried to try and get some kind of response. Nothing.”

“No but if I call from my cell, I know he’ll answer,” you replied, pointing at your duffel bag. “Get me my phone.” Dean glanced down before reaching into your bag to fish out your cell. He clicked the button, checking the screen and then throwing over to Sam. Sam handed it to you and you smiled. “He texted me. See?” You opened the message and within a second, your happiness faded.

The phone almost slipped from your finger, landing in Sam’s palm. He held it up, reading the message. “Stay at Bobby’s. Don’t call. Not safe.”

Dean frowned, snatching the phone back, scowling at the screen. “Sonuvabitch,” he growled, standing and flinging the phone onto the bed. He stormed out and you closed your eyes as the sound of his footsteps echoed away.

“Shit,” Sam sighed, leaning into you and you clung to him, wishing you could turn back the clock and not go on the hunt. You missed the house, in the middle of nowhere, not much but it was  _ yours _ . Familiar scents and sounds. Not that Bobby’s wasn’t comforting - it was full of childhood nostalgia and the safety of home. And the boys were here.

But John wasn’t.

“We have to go find him,” you muttered, pushing at Sam’s shoulders. “Like, now.”

Sam shook his head, scrubbing one hand over his face. “You really think you’re in the right state to go anywhere right now?” he asked, lifting his head to look at you. “You need to rest. Recover. Dean and I -”

“Go without me? No.” He sighed, getting to his feet and walking away. You followed him with your eyes. “Sam -”

“I’m not putting you in danger,” he said without looking in your direction, resting one hand against the window frame. His eyes were directed out the window, and you could hear Dean shouting downstairs. “I need to go and calm him down.”

“Sam,” you begged, snagging his sleeve as he walked past you towards the door. “Please, don’t -”

He paused, looking back with a sorrow-filled expression. “Just stay here. We won’t leave you, I promise.” Your hold on him faltered, and all you could do was watch him walk out of the room, leaving the door open wide. Turning your attention to the bed, you struggled to your feet, wincing at the pull on the freshly healing wounds on your back. It was itchy where the new skin was pulled tight and when you reached the bed, you sank into the mattress, curling up into a ball as tightly as you could.

Your fingers found your phone and you stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the “call” button. His name almost seemed to pulse on the screen, daring you to make the call.

You pressed down, waiting for the dial tone to sound. It rang twice before connecting through to voicemail. “ _ You’re through to John’s cell. Leave a message. _ ”

His voice echoed in your ear and you sobbed when the beep signaled for you to speak. For what felt like forever, you couldn’t force the words out, until finally, a broken whisper managed to pass your lips.

“Daddy… please…”


	18. Chapter 18

It took two weeks for you to manage the stairs without one of the boys or Bobby helping you. And as soon as you were walking properly again, you were ready to leave Bobby’s and start the search for John.

The boys shut you down.

It was a short lived argument that ended with you sat on the porch, watching the Impala drive away down the road. Bobby stood behind you, wary of saying anything to turn your rage on him.

You stormed into the house and up the stairs, slamming your bedroom door.

A week later your heat hit. It was pain from the get go, and Bobby wasn’t in a position to help. He called Dean and Sam, who were finishing up a case with a spook eight hours away in Lake Manitoc.

Six hours later and the Impala was skidding into the driveway. The engine was barely off before Sam was out of the car, Dean hot on his tails, only to be stopped by Bobby at the door.

“She’s sleepin’,” he snapped, keeping his voice low. “I know you boys drove a long way and you’re worried, but let’s… give me thirty minutes to put some miles between myself and this disturbing situation, yeah?”

Dean nodded, pushing Sam in the door and throwing himself onto the couch. “I’m exhausted,” he groaned, flinging an arm over his eyes. Bobby rolled his eyes, closing the front door as Sam shuffled towards the stairs. “Go check on her.”

“What did I just say?”

“He’ll be good,” Dean grunted but Sam was already halfway up the stairs. Bobby snorted in irritation, resolving to vacate as quickly as he could.

You barely stirred when Sam opened the bedroom door or when he stripped down to his boxers, sliding into the bed behind you. The covers were warm and he could feel the heat from your skin before he even touched you. When his fingers brushed over your hip, you whimpered in your sleep, rolling to face him.

Bobby’s truck rumbled to life loudly in the yard, pulling away with a loud rustle of gravel. 

“Sam?” you whispered, burrowing into his chest.

“I’m here, Omega,” Sam purred, wrapping his arms around you. His scent surrounded you, mingling with yours, and you relaxed against him. “I’m right here.”

Part of your mind wanted to scream at him because he should have been there all along, not hunting and looking for John without you. But in the end, it was a seconds-long struggle and the Omega in you won over, craving the comfort of your Alpha’s scent.

You weren’t entirely sure if you’d fallen asleep or not  in that strange place where it seems to be eternity and a split-second all in one. Eventually, a dull aching throb in your lower belly woke you properly and you hummed in your throat. Sam’s entire body stiffened as your scent flourished and his cock hardened against your belly. 

“Sam…” This time when you spoke his name, it wasn’t desperate or needy. It was drawn out into a whisper, accompanied by your toes curling against his calves and your hips rolling to grind your body into his. Sam’s cock twitched, leaking precum against the fabric of his underwear. “Alpha.” You pushed at the waistband of his boxers, sliding them down his thighs as he lifted his hips off the bed to accommodate you.

Your fingers wrapped around his cock and a rumble echoed deep in Sam’s chest.

Sam’s lips curled upwards in a snarl and his slid his fingers through your hair, dragging you into a brutal kiss. “I got you,” he growled.

You gasped when he pushed you onto your back, flinging the covers off onto the floor. He forced his knees between yours, spreading your legs easily, pinning your wrists to either side of your head. His weight made it uncomfortable enough to force the wind out of your lungs and you grunted, making Sam’s expression turn predatory.

His eyes flashed and you bared your throat, arching into his body.

He moved your wrists above your head, holding them both securely with one giant hand, using the other to fist his cock, lining up with your slick entrance. You were panting heavily, half-delirious with need, and Sam could taste it in the air. His hips pushed forward, forcing the full length of his cock inside you, punching a cry from your dry lips.

Sam’s grip loosened for a second as his head dropped onto your bare chest, his breath hot against your nipple. His tongue darted out as he panted, the slick tip dragging over the peak of your breast and you whined needily.

He ignored you, focusing on torturing your breasts as he held himself buried to the root in your throbbing cunt. You keened and struggled, wiggling your hips to try and entice him into moving, but Sam just chuckled darkly against your nipple. “Impatient Omega,” he chided, tugging at your nipple with his teeth.

A sharp pain made you cry out and Sam groaned, rewarding your cry with a roll of his hips. The tip of his cock grazed your sweet spot just as Sam’s tongue dragged over the nick he’d caused on your breast. Your blood stained his bottom lip and he lifted his head, kissing you firmly, hard enough to cut off your cry of pleasure.

You could taste the copper of your blood on his skin.

Sam planted his free hand on the bed beside you, bracing his weight evenly. Inch by inch he withdrew, until only the flared head was stretching your greedy pussy and when he slammed back in, you screamed. This time, there was no teasing a second stroke - Sam didn’t stop. His mouth travelled along your jaw slowly, leaving dark purple bruises sucked into your skin like he was mapping his territory and each few seconds of pain was an explosion of sensation that made your eyelids flicker and every cell sing.

He shifted, freeing your hands and rearing back, pulling away from you altogether and you mewled at the loss, instantly reaching for him. Sam smirked, wrapping one big hand around your left knee, rolling you onto your front with enough force to bruise your skin with his fingers. You grunted, automatically raising your hips to present to him.

Sam growled, pressing two fingers against your slick hole, sinking them in to the hilt. Your whimper was muffled by the pillows and the Alpha behind you slapped your ass playfully.

Begging words died on your lips when Sam dragged his fingers free of your body, sucking them into his mouth and exhaling a groan of pleasure at your taste. “Always taste so sweet, so ripe for me,” he murmured, wrapping his hand around his cock and lining up. There was a second that lasted too long where he remained still and your body tensed in anticipation.

He thrust into you with one hard stroke, almost rattling your teeth in your skull and you screeched, clawing at the covers. Sam grunted and snarled like an animal as he took you, spearing you on his cock over and over.

One of your nails tore through the sheet and you howled when Sam placed one hand on your shoulder, dragging you back to meet his thrusts. Sweat covered your skin and the sound of Sam’s thighs impacting against your ass and legs echoed pornographically around your childhood bedroom.

Your climax didn’t catch you by surprise; instead, it overwhelmed you into a silent scream. Sam felt your legs shake and he leaned forward, dragging your arms to secure your wrists against the small of your back. The move gave him leverage and forced your head up, providing him with the clear sound of your cries.

“Fuck, I can’t -” he ground out, slamming into you harder and harder, needing more behind his knot to force it into your overstimulated core. Finally he came, flooding your insides with thick, warm seed and you wailed, feeling your body twitch and pulse with the end of your orgasm.

Sam’s climax wasn’t done when he pulled you up against his chest, giving him enough room to bite down on his mark. Stars exploded behind your eyelids and it felt like your bones had gotten out of your skin.

He didn’t let go until the last of his cum was inside you before his energy gave out. His hands fell flat against the mattress leaving you free to sink down underneath him. You kept your eyes closed, waiting for your lungs to stop burning and Sam nuzzled against your shoulder, almost purring contentedly.

“Feel better?” he asked and you nodded. “I’m sorry we weren’t here.”

You swallowed, still keeping your eyes shut. “Did you find anything?” The silence you received in response was telling and your heart sank. “Okay. It’s okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than him. “I’ll get through this heat and then I’ll come with you.”

Sam sighed, kissing your shoulder blade softly. He didn’t say anything at all, even when he moved so you were the little spoon to his big spoon. His arms surrounded you, holding you close and inhaling your scent. You frowned, suspecting that his silence wasn’t an answer that would work in your favor.

Your endorphin high ended swiftly and your eyes drooped with exhaustion. Sam’s rhythmic breathing and his warm scent lulled you into sleep, where your only thoughts was of a future you knew didn’t belong to you.


	19. Chapter 19

The mattress dipped and your eyes snapped open, just in time for someone to lift the covers. Your oldest brother’s familiar scent washed over you and your body relaxed when it realized there was no danger. Dean moved in close, curling into your front so you were sandwiched between the two Alphas.

“Hey,” you whispered, not bothering to open your eyes.

“Hey,” he replied, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. “Sasquatch asleep?”

“No,” Sam grumbled, shifting slightly behind you. “He’s not.”

Dean grinned and you opened your eyes, looking into his hazel green orbs. His pupils expanded as he stared at you lovingly, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek. “You’re still in heat,” he murmured, pressing in to kiss you softly.

Your hips rolled and Sam groaned behind you, his cock stirring with renewed interest, swelling against the crack of your ass. You whimpered, pressing back into him, grinding your ass down the column of his dick. “Dirty girl,” Sam growled, grabbing your hip with his huge hand. “You want us both?”

The thought made you shiver and Dean chuckled as he kissed a path down your chest, stopping to suckle at each nipple. “She wants us both,” he teased, dragging blunt teeth over the solid peaks of your breasts and you keened like a wounded animal. “But do you want us both -” he paused, pressing a single finger against your folds, “-here?”

You nodded, gasping desperately as Dean kept his eyes on your face, one finger pushing inside you. Sam chuckled, continuing to rut against your ass. “Will we both fit?” Sam asked with one eyebrow arched in curiosity. “Might hurt her…”

“Wanna try,” you breathed as Dean’s tongue dipped into your belly button.

“Open her up, Sammy,” he growled and Sam grinned, fisting his cock with his long fingers and aligning himself with your soaked entrance. You cried out as Sam sank into you, his cum still slicking your insides from the previous round. His knot was already pulsing, the intense feeling making you squirm as he started to rock against you slowly.

Dean slipped down further as Sam lifted your leg, holding it backwards over his hip so the elder brother could nuzzle into your mound. You gasped in surprise when his tongue traced your clit, so close to where Sam’s cock was working in and out of you with long strokes.

“Dean -”

“Sssh.” He cut you off, his breath hot against your pussy and when he slid his tongue across your skin again, flicking the swollen bud of your clit, you shuddered. Sam sank his teeth into your shoulder, sucking a dark purple mark into your skin. His hands cupped and fondled your breasts, pinching your nipples to make you squeak and arch into his touch.

Dean pressed a hand against your thigh, sliding his fingers down to spread your pussy lips around your brother’s cock and you held your breath, closing your eyes in anticipation. He pushed a single digit in, mimicking Sam’s thrusts and you both groaned at the extra pressure. Dean grinned triumphantly, still dragging his tongue over your clit, waiting until you were taking Sam’s cock and his finger before adding a second.

The feeling of just his fingers, added to the thick girth of Sam’s beast of a dick, was enough to have you cascading into a climax. Your pussy spasmed and Dean took the opportunity to open you up even more. The paper thin control that you had snapped and you screamed.

“She’s ready,” Sam snarled. “And I’m struggling not to cum right now.”

Dean growled, glaring up at his brother before dragging his fingers away and snaking up to replace them with his cock. While he didn’t have Sam’s girth, his cock was still impressive - long, thick and untouched. You’d noticed that about both of them - John was cut, not that it made much difference to him.

Your penis musings were interrupted as the flared head of your eldest brother’s Alpha cock pressed into you. Sam held still, holding you in place, panting right in your ear. Dean had one hand on your hip and the other on his cock and as the first inch of his dick slid into you, it  _ hurt _ .

But you didn’t tell him to stop.

Sam started to move, his actions dragging Dean deeper for a second, until he pulled back. The second stroke was stronger, with both Alphas filling you and this time, in place of pain, was the most unbelievable pleasure that seemed to blossom outwards from where they penetrated you.

A third stroke had both of them inside you almost to the root of their cocks and you cried out, clawing at Dean’s chest and you knew you wouldn’t be taking two knots inside you. Already you felt pushed beyond your limit; thinking about being pinned between them filled with Alpha knot until you split in two… “Please, please, stop!” you begged, very real tears filling your eyes. Sam groaned, pulling out entirely, each brother looking at you in concern. “It’s too much.”

Dean shushed you, kissing your tear-stained cheeks. “Baby girl,” he soothed, cupping your face. “It’s okay. Too much, too fast. We’re sorry.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, rocking his hips a little and the slight motion soothed the ache of being so full. Sam grunted, narrowing his eyes at his big brother. “You got to knot her last night.”

“Sam…” you gasped, clinging to Dean. “You can still knot me.”

A rumble echoed from Dean’s chest as he realized what you mean. “Oh fuck, Sammy. She’s letting you have her ass.”

Sam’s eyes were comically wide and his cock twitched against your back. You squirmed, desperate for one of them to move, to give you some friction. “Sam, please, I want you both inside me.” He pressed his face into your neck, mumbling against your skin. You couldn’t make out the words but the next second, his arm moved, taking with it the weight of his body.

You barely had time to lament the loss when he returned, clutching his prize in his giant fingers. Sam grinned, pressing back in to you, slicking his cock with the lube before sliding two fingers between the globes of your ass. You moaned, grinding down on his probing touch and Dean groaned at the way your body flexed around him.

“Jesus, Sammy, stop teasing,” Dean scolded, unable to stop the slow roll of his hips. His cock twitched inside you as Sam pushed his fingers into your ass, gently opening you up.

But you didn’t  _ need _ gentle.

“I’m good, Sam,” you breathed, wrapping your arms around Dean’s head as he turned his oral fixation on your nipples. Sam was panting heavily and you could hear the slipperiness of the lube aiding his fingers. The tip of his cock pressed against your tight hole and he pushed, making you yelp as the first inch of his cock split you open.

You’d never had more than a finger or two before and a thick Alpha cock was almost more than you could handle. It didn’t hurt as much as trying to take them both in your pussy - it was a more pleasant burn that added to the sensation of Dean’s cock nudging against your g-spot.

“Sam,” you pleaded again, grinding down onto both of them. “Just fuck me -”

The end of your sentence was a shocked cry; Sam didn’t need to be told twice. Dean’s strangled moan accompanied a sudden burst of pleasure - you felt stuffed to the brim and the only thing you could do was cum. They fell into a rhythm effortlessly, each working towards their own pleasure, dragging you along for the ride. You had no complaints about that - your brothers fucked like they fought.

Cognitive thought dwindled to nothing as your hormones took over, leaving you writhing between your Alphas. Dean was biting at your breasts, elongated canines nicking your skin and Sam was sucking a path of bruises along your shoulders. Your climax seemed endless and neither of them seemed to be slowing down.

You forced your eyes open, looking down at Dean. There was a faint glow to the iris of his eyes and you felt a heavy weight crush your emotion when he growled, baring those sharp fangs at you.

This is what he’d done in the barn.

His eyes moved over your shoulder, where Sam’s softly glowing gaze met his. The younger brother snarled in your ear, rolling his hips hard as he sank his teeth into your neck over his mark. You screamed at the combined pleasure of his mark and the swell of his knot in your ass. Dean was close and came the second he buried his face in the other side of your throat, reclaiming his mark. You reacted instinctively, sinking your teeth into his neck, marking him.

You didn’t believe there was a greater pleasure than what you were feeling. Your brothers, your pack, surrounding you on all sides, filling you, protecting you - none of the doubt remained about what John had done. The fear you’d felt months before when he’d taken you… you couldn’t imagine being that afraid if you were given a glimpse of everything you were gaining.

Dean licked at your neck, nuzzling into you, his arms around your waist as you returned the favor. Sam wrapped his long arms around both of you and you couldn’t help but smile at your still-slightly-gangly older brother and his lanky arms. 

“You marked me,” Dean murmured, and you smiled.

“Yeah, I did,” you replied, rubbing your nose against his. “Wanna mark both of you.”

Sam sighed against the back of your neck. “If anything happened to us… if you’ve marked us -”

“I don’t care,” you said firmly and Dean smiled.

There was a moment of silence and then you felt a chaste kiss on your shoulder. “In the morning. Sleep now,” Sam muttered quietly.

You nodded, trying to ignore the panic. “Please don’t go without me,” you whispered desperately, forcing Dean to look at you. The iridescent glow of his eyes had faded and you felt a lump in your throat. “You can’t go looking for Dad without me.”

Sam nodded, his forehead resting against your neck. “We won’t,” he promised and you stared at Dean, waiting for him to answer. When he remained silent but didn’t fight you on it, you knew that was the best you were going to get.


	20. Chapter 20

_ Six Months Later _

It was a seven hour drive to Chicago. You had elected to ride in the back, mainly because you felt like hell and wanted to lie down. Sam had checked your temperature before you’d headed out and with no fever present, the boys didn’t have an excuse to ditch you at Bobby’s.

You knew exactly what was causing it. Gas station burritos were often dangerous but you’d been so damn hungry and it looked freshly cooked enough. Okay, the cheese was a little chewy. But it was the only thing you had eaten that Dean and Sam hadn’t and hey, dodgy food was the least of your problems really. You’d hunted with worse.

Still, you slept all the way to Chicago and opted to stay in the hotel room while the brothers did the hunt. They returned to check on you, sharing minor details but otherwise keeping you out of it and for once, you didn’t fight them. 

When night fell, they left to check out an abandoned warehouse. An hour or so after they’d gone, you heard a knock at the door. The scent of Alpha, specifically “Winchester” Alpha, made you roll your eyes and you stomped towards the door, intent on chewing Dean out for forgetting his key  _ again _ , when the scent became clearer.

Your eyes went wide and you flung the door open, barely giving John a minute before your arms were around his neck and he chuckled at your enthusiasm.

“Hey, hey,” he chided, dragging you into the room and kicking the door shut. You tightened your hold, squeezing your eyes tightly so you didn’t burst into tears. “I got you, baby girl. I’m here.”

Happiness at seeing him was overwhelmed with anger before John could comprehend it. You slid down his larger body, stepping back, raising a hand and jabbing him as hard as you could in the pectoral muscle.

“Where the hell have you been?” you yelled as John rubbed the spot where you’d poked him. “We’ve been worried sick and you haven’t been answering any calls! And don’t give me that “for your own safety” bullshit.”

He shook his head. “I’m here now,” he replied. “But we’re not staying.”

You paused, pulling your head back and tilting it slightly. “I’m not going anywhere without Sam and Dean.”

John gave you a strained smile. “Is that so?” He looked around the motel room. “They’ll be on their way back here soon.”

“John, what’s going on?” you demanded, putting your hands on your hips. “You disappear, we spend months on the road looking for you -”

“Wait - you were on the road?” he asked and you scowled, slapping at the same spot you’d poked. “You were supposed to be at Bobby’s!”

You stared at him, mouth agape. “Supposed to? Like a  _ good _ Omega, right?” Fixing him with an icy stare, all trace of your previous happiness gone. “Shall we talk about how you’re supposed to protect me? Supposed to tell me the truth?” Your face twisted up in disgust. “You  _ lied _ to me. Made it out like you  _ wanted _ what I wanted.”

John shook his head, stepping closer but you held up a hand, halting his approach. “Baby girl -”

“Don’t,” you snapped. “You knew! You  _ knew _ that I’ve got little to no chance of getting pregnant. You  _ lied _ to me. Told me you wanted it too.”

“I’ve got three grown kids, Y/N!” he yelled back, spreading his arms wide. The moment was highly charged and then… all the fight went out of him. “Dean and Sam were supposed to keep you at Bobby’s, not drag you around with them. This was their training, not yours.”

You blinked, stepping even further away from him. “So this was you benching me?” A disgusted scoffing sound left your lips and you shook your head in disbelief. “You can’t control me like this! You can’t have everything your way. What, you rip away my chance for anything in life, take away Sam’s chance at normal? Dean’s? And everything comes down to you needing a convenient place to stick your knot.” You laughed humorlessly, tears shining in your eyes. “As long as John gets what he wants -”

His hands grabbed your arms, pushing you back against the nearest wall and you shrieked at the contact, struggling against him. “Shut. Up,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his fingers painfully tight on your upper arms.

Voices echoed down the hallway and John turned, pushing you behind him. You were under no illusion that the conversation was finished.

Sam and Dean tumbled through the door, arguing about something, both of them stopping dead when they saw John, shielding you with his larger body. Dean spoke first, his eyes wide at the sight of his missing father. “Dad?”

“Hey boys.” Dean was in front of him straight away, sharing a long embrace with John, while reaching out to take your hand for a few seconds. When his eldest child pulled away, John’s eyes moved to Sam, who was bristling at his father’s sudden appearance. “Hi, Sam.”

“Hey, Dad,” the younger brother replied softly but he made no move to hug his dad like Dean had. John’s eyes caught the exposed skin of Sam’s collar, where a perfect oval shaped scar was on display and Sam tugged his shirt up, covering it.

John looked at you but your eldest brother stopped the brewing fight. “Dad, it was a trap,” Dean exclaimed. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

John lifted a hand, shaking his head. “It’s all right. I thought it might’ve been.”

“Were you there?” Dean asked, eyebrows knit together in concern.

“Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?” The tone of his voice displayed worry and you had no idea what had happened at the warehouse. Dean gave you a reassuring smile as he answered in tandem with his brother.

“Yes, sir.”

John sighed, running his hand down your shoulder and you didn’t miss the way Sam’s shoulders tensed. “Good,” the eldest Winchester muttered, pulling you closer. “Well, it doesn’t surprise me. It’s tried to stop me before.”

Sam cocked his head to the side in confusion. “The demon has?”

“It knows I’m close,” John breathed, his voice lower than usual. “It knows I’m gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell - actually kill it.”

“How?” Dean’s words were filled with awe, the hero worship of your father still going strong. On the other end of the spectrum, suspicion filled Sam’s colorful eyes. 

John smiled and slung an arm around your shoulder; your eyes met Sam’s and you saw the possessiveness there. He’d been content to share with Dean.

He wasn’t as content with John touching you.

“I’m workin’ on that,” John drawled and Sam stepped forward.

“Let us come with you. We’ll help.” Dean shot his brother a warning look and John sighed.

“No, Sam,” he explained slowly. “Not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don’t want you caught in a crossfire. I don’t want you hurt.”

Sam clenched his jaw. “Dad, you don’t have to worry about us.” There was more he wanted to say, you could see it plain as day on his face. But John wouldn’t see the real problem here. Sam wanted to yell, shout, tell the older man what you’d been through, all three of you. Tell him that you weren’t the only one carrying a mark.

“Of course I do,” John retorted. “I’m your father.” The statement met a wall of silence and John sighed heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Look, Sam, I know we don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things but you gotta listen to me now, son. It’s better if you and Dean just -”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “What about Y/N?” he demanded, reaching out to grab Sam’s sleeve before he could charge forward into a fight.

But that didn’t happen. A loud screech and the lights flickered, plunging the room into darkness. Something raked sharp claws down the wall and you screamed as John was sent flying. He collided with a set of cabinets just as Sam was taken down, Dean’s yell echoing off of the walls.

You dropped to the floor as Sam yelled about lighting them up, feeling strong hands tug at you. Sensing that it might be your only hope to escape, you squeezed your eyes shut like your brother ordered and let the hands take you to freedom.

Cold night air assaulted your lungs and you realized it was John holding you. He was bloodied up, just as Sam and Dean were. Your earlier nausea decided to make a return and you bent double in John’s hold.

“Y/N?” he asked.

Sam dropped down in front of you. “You okay to keep movin’? As soon as that flare is out, they’ll be back.” You nodded, pulling away from John to seek out your brother’s scent and comfort. None of you saw the expression on John’s face as you chose the youngest Alpha over him.

“I’m not coming,” John snapped, his eyes not leaving you. “And I’m taking Y/N.”

Dean’s head shot up and Sam glared at his father, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. “What? What are you talkin’ about?”

“You boys… you’re beat to hell,” John started but Dean waved his concern off.

“We’ll be alright,” Dean insisted.

“We should stick together,” you murmured, pulling back to look at Sam. “We’ll go after the demons -”

“And have them use her to get to Dad?” Dean interrupted as Sam shook his head in disbelief.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Sam growled, holding you close to his chest. “You’re not taking her.”

“She’s not yours, Sam,” John warned, seeing the light glow in his youngest son’s eyes. “And you can’t keep her safe. You didn’t leave her at Bobby’s.” Sam opened his mouth to argue and you knew this would end in a physical fight if you didn’t stop it.

“Sam,” you whispered, clinging to his shirt and subtly brushing your fingers over your mark on his throat. “It’s okay.”

“They’re not gonna stop,” Dean said quietly. “They’re gonna try again. They’re gonna use us to get to him - it’ll be worse if Y/N is here. Meg was right.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Dad’s vulnerable when he’s with us. He’s stronger without us around.”

“What about her?” Sam demanded. “She’s better off with us.” You pushed up onto tiptoes, cupping Sam’s face and kissing him hard, pouring every ounce of frustration into the touch. “Y/N -”

You shook your head and placed one finger on his lips. “Just for a little while. I promise.”

“Sammy,” John pleaded, reaching out to you and you took his hand, letting the eldest Alpha pull you away from your brothers. You hid your face in his coat, unwilling to watch them leave you. “This fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you’ve got to trust me, son.” 

Sam’s face was set with grim determination and only Dean’s hand on his shoulder held him back from you. His eyes shone and you couldn’t look at him.

John turned, guiding you towards the truck he’d been driving. You obediently climbed into the passenger seat, refusing to look at your brothers because you didn’t know you could do this, that you could spare them if you looked back.

“Be careful boys,” John called. Dean and Sam just watched, like pieces of your heart on the ground, shattered, hurt and with an uncertain future.

You hoped it wouldn’t be too long before you could be with them again.


	21. Chapter 21

The glass of the truck window was stuck to your face when you opened your eyes and you peeled yourself off of it with a grimace as you tasted the dryness in your mouth. Your bottle of water from the last stop was in the holder in front of you and you grabbed it, gulping down the slightly stale water until the bottle was mostly empty.

“G’morning, princess,” John drawled, slouched in his seat with one hand on the wheel. The truck ambled along the deserted country highway and you frowned, sitting straight. The water bottle hung loosely in your hand as the truck passed a familiar tree.

“We’re going home?” John nodded at your question but your frown didn’t dissipate. “But I thought it wasn’t safe?”

“Things have changed,” he replied cryptically and your frown turned into a scowl.

“More secrets?” you sassed, placing the water bottle back in the holder and folding your arms across your chest. The nausea from earlier had passed, probably because you’d slept. “Dean and Sam don’t lie to me.”

John huffed at that, indicating his displeasure with how the three of you had been surviving in the last six months. “You don’t need to know everything,” he stressed, earning himself a scathing glare.

“I think I probably should have been aware of the effects of what you did to me.”

“I did you a favor,” John snapped. “You don’t want kids, Y/N. Not in this life. Not when you have to worry about them every night, wondering if they’re alive or if the next rumor you hear is that you’ve lost them. Without being able to speak to them again.”

You gaped at him, shaking your head. “Then pick up the damn phone! Fuck, Dad, you knew where we were all the time.” John’s head snapped round to look at you and you sneered nastily. “We nearly lost Dean. And you didn’t answer the phone.”

“I knew you’d figure it out,” he mumbled, sitting straight and flexing his hands on the wheel. “You gotta understand, sweetheart - I’m doin’ this for you. For Dean, for Sam. This demon dies and we’re free. You can have that sweet apple pie life, you and the boys.”

Tears stung your eyes. “Except you’ve taken that option away from me.”

“Not necessarily,” John argued.

“Yes, necessarily. We’re not idiots, John. We researched everything. Even the weird glowy eyes shit.” John’s cheeks darkened and you realized he already knew about that. “Fuck, is there anything else you’ve been hiding from me?”

“No,” he lied and you threw your hands up in exasperation.

“Then why the hell did you separate me from the Alphas I actually  _ trust _ ?” you hissed, fixing a scornful look onto your face and John’s shoulders dropped. “You took me away from my pack.”

“You’re not just theirs,” he growled out. “You were mine first. I don’t care what freakin’ genetics say. You were my Omega first.”

“And I’ve been theirs since,” you snarled back. The truck swerved to the side of the road suddenly under the Alpha’s control, coming to an abrupt stop. You shrieked, clinging to the door as John turned the engine off and climbed out, slamming his door. “What the fuck are you doing?” He didn’t answer - he flung your door open and dragged you from the leather bench seat. You fought against him, screaming and clawing at his face but John didn’t seem to care.

“You were mine first,” he reminded you roughly, baring his teeth. “Sam isn’t the Alpha here.” His weight came down on your shoulders and you dropped to your knees in the warm dirt, crying out when John forced you onto your belly. “You stink of them.”

“YOU were the one who set this all up!” you screamed, kicking out but John only laughed. “You wanted this!”

You didn’t know if it was truly anger at you or the entire situation but John was in control and you knew he needed to reassert his dominance. And it was better he did it with you rather than the boys.

Having one of them injured or dead was the worst case scenario and being a Winchester, you would rather avoid the inevitability of that happening. Worst case was often the only case.

John’s hands tugged at your pants and you clenched your teeth, not resisting but not helping him either. Submission was the last thing on your mind - John  _ left _ you, benched you… 

Rough fingers thrust between your thighs and you cried out when the calloused tips grazed your folds. John spread your legs a little more, dragging one pant leg all the way off so he could spread them wide. Two thick fingers slid into you with no warning and you whimpered, feeling your body respond.

He leaned over your body, finger fucking you hard as he rested his lips against your ear. “Now tell Daddy who you belong to,” he whispered, adding a third finger and extending them to stretch you open. You whined, squeezing your eyes shut. “I can feel how fuckin’ wet you are, baby girl. You want my cock don’t you?”

Stubborn silence met his question and John sat back with a smirk, using his free hand to unbuckle his pants. You panted in the dust, blowing small clouds of it away with each breath. John moved so he was kneeling between your legs, watching your pussy open up and suck at his fingers. The sunlight played over the bare skin of your ass and thighs, and John groaned.

“Look at that beautiful Omega cunt,” he crooned, stroking his cock as he kept his eyes on your slick pussy. “So wet for me.”

You wailed into the ground as he curled his index finger inside you, teasing that sensitive spot on your inner walls and your pussy flooded with moisture. John chuckled, withdrawing his fingers just as you reached the peak and a frustrated scream accompanied dwindling pleasure.

“Oh my sweet baby girl,” he growled, lining his cock up, barely giving it a second before he thrust into you, punching a scream from your lungs.

One huge hand fisted your hair, holding your head off of the ground and John didn’t hold back as he fucked you hard enough to leave road rash on your knees. Each stroke brought another rough grunt and you clawed your fingers into the dust as you came hard.

“That’s it,” John snarled, each snap of his hips sending you higher and higher. His knot was swelling and he stopped abruptly, panting against your neck. “I can’t knot you here.” You mewled pitifully - now he’d gotten you there, he was just going to abandon you?

“Daddy, please -”

“No,” he said, shaking his head and pulling away and you scrambled up, clinging to his pants as he tried to tug them up. “Y/N, we can’t, not here -”

“Then let me taste you,” you begged, trying to drag him closer, fixing your eyes on his. John looked at you for a moment before he sighed and stopped. You smiled, kneeling directly in front of him. “Just let me taste you, Daddy,” you whispered, sliding your fingers around his thick cock.

John’s head dropped back as you started to lick and suck along his shaft, tasting yourself on him. You lapped at your palm, making sure it was saliva-slick before taking hold of him again and pumping him slowly. John groaned, placing one hand on your head and the other on the roof of the truck, trying to steady himself.

His musky scent filled your head with a haze and you leaned in to seal your lips around the flared head of his cock, taking him in inch by inch and using your hand for what you could fit. But right now, you felt greedy and you pushed it further, taking him deep down, until you had to breathe through your nose and your sinuses tickled. His cock was bulging out your throat and the guttural noises he made echoed across the fields.

A second later and he came, tugging on your messy hair as he pulsed down your throat. You swallowed, breathing rapidly through your nose as you took everything he had to give. When he was done, John stumbled back, his eyes wide and locked on you, kneeling in the dirt, half undressed, your own cum on your thighs and his cum on your lips.

His cock stirred again and you swallowed the last of his taste, blinking at him. A sweet smell permeated the air and you realized the reason for his and Sam’s behavior.

John was in rut.

Tucking his hardening cock into his pants, John leaned down, getting you to your feet and you let him dress you without a word, complying with his silent instructions. When he was done, he held you close, cupping your face between his hands that were thick with your scent.

He didn’t speak, helping you back into the truck. The rest of the drive was done in silence. When you got back to the house, you ran, locking yourself in your bedroom. John let you be, despite his burgeoning rut.

It was nearly midnight when you crawled naked into his bed, unable to sleep alone and tormented by the constant scent of him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, curling into his side. “I shouldn’t… I was just so angry at you.”

“I know,” he replied, holding you close. “It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have lied. But you gotta understand, sweetheart, some things I keep from you for your own good.” His fingers traced the marks from the boys on either side of your throat and then down over his own faded mark. Your throat tightened at the touch. “I’m selfish.”

“Coulda told you that,” you agreed, flashing him a cheeky grin.

“Yeah,” John murmured. “It’s been so hard, these last six months. Without you. Knowing you’re out there and not being able to touch you - it’s the worst kind of torture.”

“Brought it on yourself,” you informed him, feeling a little smug at his pain. He smiled, pressing his forehead against yours, gathering you closer in his arms. “John…”

“Yes, princess?”

“This thing with Sam -” you started but John shook his head. “I need to talk to you about it.” 

“I don’t care if you marked him,” he mumbled, sounding less than happy about it.

“I marked both of them,” you informed him, feeling your cheeks heat up. John turned his head to look at you before he sighed heavily. “They let me.”

“You never asked me.”

You nuzzled against him, breathing in deeply. “I knew the answer would be no. But that’s not the thing with Sam I need -” You’d realized that John didn’t know about Sam’s visions and you’d resolved to tell him but the second he silenced you with a kiss, you put it out of your mind.

It wasn’t like he was generally forthcoming with everything he knew.

“I’ve missed you so much,” John mumbled against your skin, trailing kisses down your throat and over his mark, moving lower to tease at your nipples. “Missed your scent, your touch -”

You gasped when he sucked a nipple into his mouth, teasing it with teeth and tongue. “Daddy, please… don’t make me wait.” You’d waited too long already. And it felt more urgent now, when it was just the two of you. John groaned, releasing your breast, dragging you into a heated kiss. He rolled you onto your back, positioning himself between your thighs, his cock nudging at your soaked entrance.

With one stroke he was buried to the root and you cried out, only to be cut off by John’s hand. He kept you silent, almost blocking your airway, pinning you down as he fucked into you hard and slow, taking his time with each new moment of torture.

“Gonna knot you,” he growled, sweat dripping from his skin onto yours. You clung to him, letting his movements push you further up the bed and you were so close you could taste it.

John pulled away and you cried out in frustration. He smirked, forcing you onto your belly, slapping your ass until you raised it in the air for him, giving him the perfect view of your slick cunt. Trailing two fingers from your ass to your clit, John drank down each desperate whimper like it was a fine single malt.

“You were mine first,” he reminded you before pushing up onto his knees. “Tell me you want my knot, Y/N.”

“W-” You swallowed, finding your throat dry again. “W-want your knot, D-daddy.” The stutter made him groan but you could barely hear it over your own whine of pleasure, provoked by his slow penetration. His cock stretched you open, the head pressing into the mouth of your womb with an intense pressure that made you push your hands against the comforter, tangling it in your fingers.

“Goddamn,” John breathed, closing his eyes as he stopped to just feel your clutching velvet heat wrapped around his dick. You twitched and moaned and John rolled his hips, pressing even deeper into you. “Been too long,” he snarled. “Need to fuckin’ knot you.”

He pulled back, barely giving you a second to protest before he snapped his hips forward and started to fuck you with a fervor you didn’t quite understand. His strokes were bruising,  _ hurting _ , but John just kept on taking, pushing you into climax again, sinking his teeth into his mark on your throat. It was more painful this time and you screamed, the edge of agony intensifying your orgasm as John’s knot swelled and filled you to the brim.

It took forever for him to stop cumming and to let go of your neck. You were slumped with your ass in the air, John’s knot locking his pelvis to yours for the next few moments. Your belly was warm with his cum and your eyes started to roll back in your head as the sweet warmth of afterglow beckoned you towards a nap.

John pulled away the second his knot receded, watching his spendings gush from your abused cunt. He patted your ass and walked away towards the bathroom, returning a second later with a damp cloth. You didn’t move when he cleaned you up, wiped away the blood and cum on your skin or when he pulled the covers over you.

Afterglow won and you shut your eyes, slipping into a peaceful sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

Four days. John’s rut passed and you fully expected to head back out onto the road.

You did  _ not _ expect to wake up alone in his bed, his scent already fading from the sheets he’d fucked you in just the night before. Worry was your first instinct, so you scrambled from the bed, running to the window. His truck was gone from the driveway below.

He’d ditched you.

Anger replaced worry and you threw some clothes on, not caring if they were dirty, before dashing down the stairs. Your cellphone was gone and the landline wire was cut. John was trying to keep you here. 

“Fucking bastard,” you screamed into the air, picking up the nearest thing and throwing it. Your victim, an old vase with dead flowers in it, smashed against the wall, the deceased plant slopping to the ground with a wet squelch.

Bobby’s was a twenty hour drive but you were without a car. You headed to the garage out back where Dean had been tinkering while John fixed the truck up. At first glance, you didn’t see anything inside the building, but as your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you saw several old motorcycles leaning against the far wall.

Dean had been working on them. You remembered that.

Moving over to them, you searched for the keys, finding them in a pot on the bench. It took a while to match the keys to the bikes and to figure out which one worked. Only one started successfully and your stomach flip-flopped as you saw the nearly empty fuel gauge.

John kept gas around somewhere - you knew he did. He was a soldier and supplies were the first trick of the trade. He kept his house as well stocked as efficiently as he kept track of his many storage lockers across the country, which had always seemed impossible to you.

You located three gas canisters in the basement of the house. Hauling them out to the garage was hard work and by the time you finished, it was nearly midday. You headed back into the house, fixing some lunch before filling a backpack with a change of clothes, a few weapons and some food.

Dean only had one helmet for the bikes, which was a little big on you. You managed to secure the last full gas canister to the back of the bike and you slipped on the bag and helmet, fastening your jacket tightly to your front.

Pulling the bike out of the garage, you slammed your foot onto the kick start, feeling your hands shake with nerves. You’d seen Dean do this plenty. It couldn’t be that hard. The bike shuddered and spluttered before roaring to life and you swung one leg over, fixing your eyes on the road.

You revved the motorbike and lifted your foot off the ground. The wheels spun, surging the vehicle forward and you screamed with fright, coming to an immediate stop. “Fuck,” you swore, your anger at John growing by the minute. “I’m gonna fucking kill him,” you decided out loud, twisting the throttle back again.

This time, you only wobbled and yelled a little as the motorbike pulled away. After a few minutes, you felt comfortable and stable.

You had to get to Sioux Falls and find your pack.

*****

_ Five Days Later _

The motorbike stopped working three miles away from civilization. You’d hiked the rest of the way into the city suburb, passing affluent homes until you reached the center of town. Calling Bobby only got you his voicemail and you knew something was wrong. 

Picking up a car was easy. Stealing one was easier.

Morning hadn’t even broken the next day before you were heading out of town in a Honda Civic that had seen better days but had a crappy locking system.

That car got you to Kansas City with a brief stop in Missouri for something to eat and a few hours sleep in the backseat. Heading out of Kansas, nearly four days since John had tried to ditch you, you were pulled over by a traffic cop.

Stolen car, stolen plates, not to mention the warrant for your arrest in three states. The cop had tried to arrest you, naturally; you’d resisted. That meant two hours dragging his body somewhere he could snooze off his concussion, leaving his car on the road for someone to find. The Civic had to go - you ditched it in Omaha, stole a Citroen and took the back roads the rest of the way.

You had to stop two hours outside of Sioux Falls - you were too tired to drive any more. Nausea was bubbling up in your throat and you wondered just how well cooked the burger at that truck stop diner had been. The back seat  in the Citroen looked even more uncomfortable than the Civic did, so you found a motel and checked in for the night.

Limiting yourself to five hours sleep, you woke after four, rushing to the bathroom to puke. As you were brushing your teeth and lamenting your love of junk food, you decided you may as well do the rest of the drive. It was five in the morning - Bobby would be up.

The Impala was in the driveway as you drove up to the house and your heart leaped for joy at the sight of her, black metalwork glinting in the morning sunshine. You climbed out of the car, not bothering to grab your stuff, and ran into the house.

It was chaos. They were in the middle of an exorcism and you skidded to a halt just as the demon’s mouth curled and she levelled black eyes on you. Sam and Dean were huddled next to Bobby; they turned just as the blonde woman started to speak.

“Oh, hey, little sis,” she purred. “Daddy says hi.”

Dean nodded at Sam. “Finish it.”

Sam started to chant again as Bobby moved to usher you away but you refused to move, watching the woman convulse and black smoke pour from her mouth. She collapsed and Dean rushed forward, checking her pulse. “She’s still alive,” he yelled, “call 911. Get water and blankets.”

Bobby dashed towards the kitchen as the girl started to choke on her own blood. You turned away, covering your mouth, feeling like you were going to hurl. Dean and Sam were preoccupied with the girl and didn’t notice you shuffle towards the door.

Once outside, you gulped in lungfuls of fresh air, trying to calm yourself. You didn’t know how long you stood there but when you heard Bobby telling the boys to leave, you turned to face them coming out of the door.

“I’m coming with you,” you announced.

“Oh, hell, no,” Dean said, pushing past you to get to the Impala. You grabbed at his sleeve.

“You are  _ not _ leaving me behind, dammit! Dad  _ ditched _ me. He  _ benched _ me. You won’t treat me like a helpless Omega when I’m a goddamn Winchester and I know what I’m fucking doing!” Your face was red with exertion and Dean stared, unable to answer, looking his brother for answers.

“She’s coming,” Sam decided, stomping past the both of you. “Get in the car.”

*****

“No, no, put that one here,” Sam murmured, guiding your hand to the top of the symbol he was painting on the inside of the Impala. Dean was stood a little way away, looking at the train tracks he’d parked the Impala by, just outside Jefferson City.

He’d make a token complaint about drawing on his car before leaving you and Sam to do what you want to demon-proof his Baby. The argument about taking the Colt was long done and you had volunteered to stay with the car while they went to rescue John.

“You should be glad I volunteered to sit in the car for this,” you mused, glancing at Sam. “You two gonna be okay?”

Sam gave you a wry smile. “We’re gonna be fine.”

“Why didn’t you argue with me? Back at Bobby’s?” He hesitated and you narrowed your eyes. “Sam? What aren’t you telling me?”

“I saw you,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. “I… I dreamed it, the other night. You were just laying there, not moving, not… you were at Bobby’s. I knew we couldn’t leave you there.” He finished the piece of sigil he was drawing, focusing on it with grim determination. “You smell like Dad,” he commented.

Your fingers grazed over the still fresh mark on your neck - John hadn’t exactly been gentle with you in your few days with him. The anger you felt was still raw and the marks he’d left on you were more than flesh wounds. But you had to try and put it aside for the boys’ sake. 

But you couldn’t hold in everything.

“We were supposed to stick together and he left,” you said, trying not to let the anger creep into your voice. “He left, expecting me to wait at the house like a good little girl.” You failed at controlling your emotions and Sam’s jaw ticked. He shut the trunk, reaching over to pull you against his chest. Sinking into his hold, you breathed in his scent, trying to seek comfort from him.

“You have no idea how hard it is to be apart from you,” he murmured, pressing his face into your hair. You closed your eyes, soaking in him. His fingers dragged through your hair, loosening it from your ponytail. “When we were on the road without you, I hated it. Before I knew you existed, I wanted normal. I wanted family. And when we had you with us, when we were together, it felt like it was gonna be okay.”

You pulled back to look up at him. “But you still wanted to leave,” you whispered.

Sam shook his head, wiping at the tears forming in his eyes. “That night… Dad and I fought because I was gonna take you. You were nearly fifteen.” His thumb caressed your cheek and you leaned in it, closing your eyes to fight back your own tears. “He found out and lost it. Refused to let you go and I knew if I ran, if I took you, we’d never have peace. Dad wouldn’t let you out of his sight.” He smiled sadly. “Now I know why.”

“I hated being apart from you and Dean,” you mumbled, placing your hand over the top of his where it rested on your cheek, turning your face to kiss the heel of his palm.

“I know what we did was wrong,” he admitted and you opened your eyes, ready to argue. You didn’t care what had happened - your brothers were your pack and whatever path brought you to them, it felt real and right and perfect. “But I don’t regret it.”

You smiled, unable to stop tears escaping your eyes. “Me either.” Crunching footsteps alerted you to Dean’s approach and you turned to look at him, keeping hold of Sam’s hand while reaching out for Dean’s. The older Alpha took it, squeezing your fingers gently. “You’re my pack, my Alphas.”

Dean’s lips curled into a half smile and he dragging his eyes from yours to Sam’s. The brothers shared a look and a brief nod before Dean brought your hand up to kiss your knuckles. “Let’s go get Dad,” he said slowly and you nodded at him.

The Impala left dust tracks in its wake as it pulled away from the railroad tracks and headed into the city.

*****


	23. Chapter 23

You tried not to look at Sam as you poured salt along the edge of the battered old window sill. This cabin had been the first place they’d found to stop and it felt like no one had spoken since you got here. Dean was dealing with John’s injuries and Sam seemed to want you as far from your father as possible.

But the wounds on Sam’s face made your stomach churn. He was hurt and you’d done nothing to help.

Standing straight, you turned, opening your mouth to finally break the silence, when Dean walked in. You glanced at him and Sam looked over from the salt line he was pouring. “How is he?” he asked and you frowned at the odd tone in his voice.

Dean sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “He just needed a little rest, that’s all.” He moved across the room, his posture stiff and awkward. “How are you?”

Sam huffed a laugh. “I’ll survive.” Dean smiled, his eyes flickering to you.

You forced your own smile, nodding and giving them the lie they needed. “I’m good.”

“Hey, you don’t think we were followed here, do you?” Sam asked, tilting his head.

Dean’s shoulders lifted briefly in a lazy shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I mean, we couldn’t have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up.” There was a glint in his eyes as he looked at you and you knew he missed that little house you’d somehow made a home in a few months. You’d give anything to be back there, with them.

Once this was done, you wanted nothing more than to go home with your  _ two _ Alphas.

You didn’t know where John fit in anymore.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, sporting the same wistful look before shaking it off. “Hey, uh... Dean, you, um...... you saved my life back there.”

“So, I guess you’re glad I brought the gun, huh?” Dean asked defensively. You scowled at him and he frowned. “Hey, you would have stopped me. You say “benched” even once and I’ll -”

Sam interrupted, huffing an irritated laugh. “Man, I’m trying to thank you here.”

Dean swallowed, standing straight. “You’re welcome,” he muttered, following Sam with his eyes as the younger brother moved across the room. “Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah.”

“You know that guy I shot?” You saw the guilt written across his face and it was enough to move you from your spot to slide your arms around his waist. Dean remained stiffly straight. “There was a person in there.”

Sam spoke the words before you could. “You didn’t have a choice, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know,” he paused, relaxing a little with your touch, “that’s not what bothers me.” Dean’s arms closed around you and you nuzzled at his throat, giving him the comfort he needed. “Killing that guy, killing Meg. I didn’t hesitate, I didn’t even flinch. For you or Y/N or Dad, the things I’m willing to do or kill, it’s just, uh .... it scares me sometimes.” His statement met silence, Sam’s confused expression focused on him. You didn’t know what to say either - mainly because you knew you’d do the same. Maybe it was the pack instinct or something else; you just knew you’d kill without hesitation for either of your brothers.

“It shouldn’t,” John said, stepping into the room. Almost instantly, you jerked out of Dean’s arms and Sam narrowed his eyes at the suddenly submissive move. “You did good.” Your father’s eyes were on you and you shuddered at the sudden coldness in his gaze.

Was he really that pissed you’d not stayed where he’d put you?

Dean frowned, keeping one hand resting on your lower back. “You’re not mad?”

“For what?”

“Using a bullet,” Dean replied, still confused by his father’s reaction.

“Mad?” John laughed, his expression softening towards his eldest child. “I’m proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you-you watch out for this family. You always have.”

There was an odd tone to Dean’s voice as he choked out his thanks. It seemed to satisfy John but something didn’t feel right. The wind outside the cabin picked up; your heart sank at the first flicker of the lights. Dashing to the window, you felt John’s presence behind you. “It found us,” he growled. “It’s here.”

Sam’s eyes grew wide. “The demon?”

John turned abruptly, pointing at his son. “Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door.”

“We already did it,” Sam replied, unwilling to leave the room. The eldest Alpha ground his teeth together in irritation, barking back at him to check it again. Sam’s face was stony and his eyes flashed but he obeyed with a mumbled “okay”, leaving the room.

“Dean,” John rasped, fixing his eyes on his firstborn. “You got the gun?” Dean nodded and John held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

Slowly, Dean’s fingers went to his side, reaching around for the gun holstered in the back of his jeans. John’s body was almost vibrating when he laid eyes on it.

“Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation,” Dean explained, holding the ancient weapon in his hands. “It disappeared.”

“This is me,” John spat and you felt something tingle in the back of your skull. “I won’t miss. Now, the gun, hurry.” Dean looked down at the Colt and you whimpered loudly,  _ knowing _ something was wrong. John felt… dark. He frightened you, maybe not for the first time, but this fear was gut-wrenching and boiling in your lungs. “Son, please,” John pleaded.

Dean backed up and you realized that the Alpha in front of you, between you and Dean, was not John. 

“Give me the gun. What are you doing, Dean?” John’s rage was barely restrained.

“He’d be furious,” Dean said softly, meeting your eyes briefly. You wouldn’t get past John on a good day - John not being John meant it was a very fucking  _ bad _ day.

“What?”

“That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn’t be proud of me, he’d tear me a new one,” Dean snarled, his emotions spiraling, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “He’d kill me for putting her anywhere near this.” You slid one foot forward, desperate to get to the distraught Alpha. John watched, face impassive as Dean raised the gun, pointing it directly at his father and cocking it. “You’re not my Dad.”

“Dean,” John’s voice was even but he didn’t move. You could see the coldness in his eyes, the calculation. Dean knew exactly what you knew. “It’s me.”

“I know my Dad better than anyone. And you ain’t him.” Your eyes watched the gun shake in his grip and John shifted, taking one step towards Dean.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” John demanded.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Dean’s eyes were darting between you and John and you could see him trying to figure out how to get you away from him. “Stay back.”

Sam walked in, skidding to a halt and holding his hands up as he took in his older brother aiming a gun at his father, with you pressed against the window behind him. Gusts of cold wind howled through the cracked old panes and the lights flickered on and off, casting an eerie glow over all your faces. “Dean,” Sam hissed. “What the hell’s going on?”

“Your brother’s lost his mind,” John volunteered and Dean grit his teeth together in a snarl.

“He’s not Dad,” he stated and you could already see the decision in Sam’s eyes. He’d pick you and Dean without a second of hesitation. “He’s possessed,” Dean insisted. “I think he’s been possessed since we rescued him.” He was growing more upset by the moment and Sam’s eyes slid over to you, seeing your nod.

“Don’t listen to him, Sammy,” John urged but the words were sickly sweet.

Dean was struggling to hold his tears and Sam glanced at him, looking for more than a theory. “He’s different!” Dean growled. “Look at her, Sam. She’s never been scared of him like that!”

John snorted. “You know, we don’t have time for this. Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you’ve gotta trust me.”

A grin curled Sam’s lips and he shook his head. “I’d never pick you over them. And John knows that.”

“Fine. You’re both so sure, go ahead. Kill me.” John opened his arms, giving the younger Alpha a clean shot. Dean hesitated and Sam didn’t move. You moved to the left, attempting to sneak out of his reach. His fingers snagged your sleeve. “Thought not.” He spun around, pinning sickly yellow eyes on your and you shrieked loudly. Sam lunged forward but John flung one hand out flat, pinning both younger men to the wall with a sickening crunch.

The Colt hit the floor.

John’s hand was around your throat and the demon possessing him bent down to retrieve the gun, holding you still. Sam and Dean struggled harder when his fingers picked up the Colt. “What a pain in the ass this thing’s been,” he drawled.

“It’s you,” you whispered, eyes wide with fright and cheeks red with discomfort. His fingers squeezed a little and you choked.

“Oh, come on, baby girl,” the demon mocked. “I thought you liked it rough?” Tears were trickling from the corners of your eyes now and he watched you, enjoying your pain.

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time,” Sam called.

John’s head turned, a wide grin on his face that didn’t look natural. It was twisted and rotten, like the thing possessing him. “Well, you found me.”

“But the holy water -” Sam started and the demon laughed.

“You think something like that works on something like me?” Sam’s face contorted with rage as Yellow Eyes pulled you closer and threats of death spewed from his lips as the demon  _ touched _ you. 

“I’m gonna kill you!”

“Oh, that’d be a neat trick. In fact,” He leaned over with the Colt, placing it on the table before looking back up at Sam. “- here. Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy.” Sam looked at the gun and for a second, you thought something might happen. But it didn’t and the demon sighed heavily. “Well, this is fun.” He pushed you back, pinning you like he had the boys.

You fought against the hold but couldn’t summon anything. You felt weak and inferior and almost like you could puke on the already gross cabin floor.

“I could’ve killed you a hundred times today, but this…” He sighed again, leaning against the window nearest to Dean. “This is worth the wait.” Dean snarled at him, trying to free himself from the demon’s hold. “Your Dad - he’s in here with me,” he continued, tapping his temple. “Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says “hi”, by the way. He’s gonna tear you apart. He’s gonna taste the iron in your blood.”

Dean only fought harder. “Let him go, or I swear to God –”

“What?”  _ John _ demanded. “What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I’m concerned, this is justice.” He drew closer to Dean, his smile twisting. “You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter.”

“Who, Meg?” You remembered the blonde girl and the demon inside. How she’d spoken about John when she saw you.

The demon nodded. “The one in the alley? That was my boy.” A fleeting glint of remorse flashed in Dean’s eyes and his captor tucked his chin into his chest. “You understand.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What? You’re the only one that can have a family?”  _ John _ glanced back over at you and you swallowed so hard it hurt, hating the intensity of eyes that weren’t your father’s. “Granted, our family isn’t quite as messed up as yours.” He smirked, looking back to Dean. “You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?” His nose was almost pressed against Dean’s now. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don’t make a right.”

Dean was panting through gritted teeth, spittle flying from his lips. “You son of a bitch.”

“I wanna know why,” Sam demanded, catching  _ John _ ’s attention. “Why’d you do it?”

“You mean why did I kill Mommy?” the demon clarified, just to twist the knife.

“Yeah.”

Yellow Eyes chuckled, turning his attention back to you. “You know,” he started, watching you but addressing Dean. “He was gonna run off with her.” Your body froze in the middle of your struggle against your invisible bonds and Dean kept his eyes on the demon, even when it turned its back to him. “Sam was gonna take your little Omega and  _ run _ .”

Dean didn’t rise to the bait but he watched you for a moment. The demon seemed to grow bored quickly with the torment. “She got in the way,”  _ John _ shrugged. “I would have killed Y/N too if she’d become a problem.” His eyes locked on Dean’s. “Daddy took care of that.”

“In the way of what?” Sam called, catching the demon’s focus again.

“My plans for you, Sammy,” he replied. “You... and all the children like you.”

Dean sighed dramatically. “Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? Cause I really can’t stand the monologuing.”

The demon’s yellow eyes bore into Dean as he drew closer again. “Funny, but that’s all part of your M.O., isn’t it? Masks all that nasty pain, masks the truth.”

The eldest Winchester brother raised his chin defiantly. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“You know, you fight and you fight for this family but the truth is they don’t need you. Not like you need them. Sam – he’s clearly John’s favorite. Even when they fight, it’s more concern than he’s ever shown you.” The twisted smile was back on his face and you could see Dean trying not to react. “And then there’s your Omega. Except she’s not  _ yours _ . She never comes to you like she does to Sam or Daddy.”

“I bet you’re real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh wait, I forgot. I wasted ‘em.” Dean smirked, seeing his success in getting a rise out of the demon as he hung his head, taking a step back. When he looked up, those eyes were even brighter than they had been.

The scream of pain that Dean emitted made you scream back, while Sam yelled for his brother. Bright red started to stain Dean’s shirt and you fought as hard as you could against the power holding you. 

“Daddy! Please! Stop!” you wailed but  _ John _ just kept on smiling.

“Dad!” Dean begged, keeping his eyes open. “Dad, don’t you let it kill me!” The smile remained and Dean’s screams grew. You were sobbing now trying desperately to reach out to Dean, to John,  _ anything _ to stop what was happening. Dean kept pleading until he lost consciousness.

“Stop,” John whispered and your bindings disappeared, leaving you and Sam to slump to the floor. “Stop it,” John whispered again. Sam threw himself towards the table, grabbing the Colt, just as Yellow Eyes regained control. Dean was still pinned to the wall, unconscious and bleeding.

The Colt was aimed at John’s heart.

The demon grinned. “You kill me, you kill Daddy.”

“I know,” Sam acknowledged, pulling the trigger. The bullet hit John in the leg, taking him down and Dean slumped as he was released from the demonic hold. John’s body flashed as he hit the floor with a thud. 

You crawled across the floor, cradling Dean’s face between your hands. Sam was beside you in an instant. “Dean?” 

The other Alpha’s eyes fluttered open and you sighed relief. “Sam, he’s lost a lot of blood,” you whispered.

“Where’s Dad?” Dean croaked.

“He’s right here,” Sam assured him. “He’s right here, Dean.”

“Go check on him,” Dean pleaded and you tried to silence him. Sam stood straight. “Please.”

Hesitantly, the youngest Alpha moved closer to John, leaning down to check his pulse. Before his fingers could touch their target, John’s eyes snapped open. Sam leaped back, raising the gun.

John strained, yelling in pain. “Sammy! It’s still alive. It’s inside me, I can feel it.” Panic covered Sam’s face and you watched in horror as he aimed the gun at John. “You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son!” Dean was fighting to sit up as John kept shouting. “Do it now!”

“Sam,” you shook your head, your voice a whisper and your eyes met Sam’s for the longest second. He could see it there, the truth laid out in your eyes.

You wanted him to pull the trigger. End the demon, end it for all of you. John knew it was the right thing to do and so did you.

Dean got to his knees, clutching his chest in pain and you held him back as best you could. “Don’t you do it, Sam.”

“You’ve gotta hurry! I can’t hold onto it much longer!” Sam’s hand shook, his finger on the trigger. “You shoot me, son! Shoot me!” John was sobbing now desperate. “Son, I’m begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!”

The scream tore from your throat as you lurched forward and black smoke poured from John’s mouth, evaporating into the floorboards and John collapsed backward with a grunt. Sam sagged against the table and Dean keeled forward onto his face.

“Dean -” you whimpered, checking him over as John groaned and curled his hands around his injured leg. He looked up, staring at Sam with accusation in his eyes. “Sammy,” you whispered. Sam’s gaze snapped away from his father and he dashed to your side, leaning down. “He needs a hospital. Badly.”

John got to his feet with difficulty and Sam glanced back over at him. “Help Dad get in the car,” he ordered softly. “I’ll bring Dean out. He’ll need the backseat.” You nodded, leaning down to kiss Dean’s forehead before standing up and going to John.

“Baby girl,” he soothed, his tone full of apology but you remained silent, slipping your arm around his back and under his arms to give him support out to the Impala. John’s expression crumbled at the silent treatment and he hobbled along with you out of the cabin.

Sam came out with a conscious Dean a few moments later, helping his brother into the backseat, where you immediately curled against his side, letting him rest his head on your shoulder. With John in the passenger seat, trying to tie a tourniquet around his leg, Sam started the car.

“The hospital’s only ten minutes away,” he muttered as he pulled out onto the highway. “Just hold on, alright?” You nodded, stroking Dean’s hair gently.

John gasped in pain as he secured the belt around his leg. “I’m surprised at you, Sammy,” he noted disapprovingly. “Why didn’t you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this?” He glanced over to see Sam remaining impassive, his eyes on the road. “Killing this demon comes first – before me, before everything.”

You looked up, seeing both of your brother’s eyes in the rearview reflection. “No, sir,” Sam said slowly. “Not before everything.” His father didn’t seem to have a response to that and the drive continued in silence for a few more moments. “Look, we’ve still got the Colt,” Sam explained, taking one hand off the wheel. “We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, alright? I mean, we already found the demon.....”

Glass shattered and your whole body was thrown sideways. Dean’s body was ripped away as the seatbelt caught his movement but you hadn’t been wearing one. Your head hit something with a sickening crack and you perceived the car rolling in slow motion, take away cups and ammo almost floating in midair. Everything seemed tinged with red and as the Impala came to a bumpy stop on all four wheels, you heard a high pitched ringing in your ears.

You closed your eyes.


	24. Chapter 24

_ Sam’s POV _

Half a day had passed since they’d stuck him in a hospital bed and Sam was done. He had to check on Y/N, Dean and John, seeing as none of the nurses or doctors would give him a straight answer. They had let him call Bobby, thank god, so the Impala was being picked up from the crash site.

The semi had come out of nowhere. Sam hadn’t seen it - he saw the demon of course. But after that, all he could remember was being the only one awake and the fear when he couldn’t see her in the back of the car. The paramedics wouldn’t tell him anything and he hadn’t laid eyes on his pack since.

He needed out.

Thankfully, the new doctor on shift was more than happy to free up the bed and Sam was dressed and out before they could pick another fight. He didn’t hesitate on who he wanted to check on first and luckily, they’d kept all of the Winchesters on the same floor.

Y/N looked so small and frail, hooked up to monitors and swamped in hideous hospital gowns. A tube was down her throat and the bruises littering her skin were only out-shadowed by the thick gash along the side of her head; the staples in her scalp were clearly visible from where they’d shaved her hair to get to the wound.

“Sir?” A nurse caught his attention and Sam turned, fixing watery eyes on her. “Can I help?”

“My family,” Sam stuttered, raising a shaky hand towards Y/N. “My… she’s my Omega,” he explained, leaving it at that. “And my brother and father are here, there was an accident -”

The nurse’s eyes widened into saucers and she instantly fawned over him. “Oh, my… would you like me to get the doctor that’s dealing with the crash victims?” Sam winced at the word - he hated it. He never wanted to consider himself a victim. Instead of responding verbally, he nodded his head, looking back to the Omega on the bed.

She scurried off, returning moments later with a doctor, a tall Asian man in his fifties who smiled sympathetically at him then walked into Y/N’s room and picked up her chart. “She’s your Omega?”

Sam swallowed. “Yeah. How is she?”

The doctor sighed. “It’s not all bad news. Her internal injuries were not as bad as we supposed, however, she required surgery to remove a clot that could have exacerbated the original brain injury and caused further swelling.” He stopped talking for a moment and Sam crept closer to her, reaching out to touch her hand.

“When will she wake up?” he asked, his throat dry and closing up.

“We don’t know if she will wake up.”

Her fingers were cool to the touch and Sam realized for the first time how lifeless she looked. Her skin was pasty, clammy and he hated seeing her surrounded by wires. He hadn’t seen this coming. When he’d dreamed of her, she was dead in Bobby’s kitchen, eyes dull and unseeing.

Sam never saw this coming.

“Sir, we will need to discuss options. Taking her off of the vent to see if she breathes on her own. And we need her full history, to see if she has a DNR or -” It was too much and Sam shook his head, trying to block out the doctor’s words.  _ She might not wake up _ . “We also need to know what to do about the baby.”

His entire world froze.

“Scans didn’t indicate any injuries to the fetus. We estimated that she was around sixteen weeks along,” the doctor continued, not noticing Sam’s shock. “Blood flow was good, heartbeat strong.”

“I didn’t know,” Sam whispered and the doctor paused, looking at him strangely. “The last few days have… I’m not…”

“You weren’t aware your Omega was pregnant?” The doctor frowned, apparently perplexed by that information. “Has she been sick recently? Complaining of tiredness? Has she had a heat?” Sam shook his head, moving backward away from the bed, struggling to look away from her face.

“Her last heat was… fuck,” Sam grunted, clutching his head. The bruising around his eye was pounding, making the ache in his skull worse. And he couldn’t remember her last heat: the conversion took a while to settle and they hadn’t been regular. The doctor stopped, raising a hand.

“I’m sorry, it’s just unusual for an Alpha not to know his Omega is pregnant,” he explained. “But she’s young and not showing… we’ll run some more tests and make sure everything is okay.” Sam nodded, turning and walking away from Y/N, entering Dean’s room on the opposite side of the hall. 

The doctor followed, speaking briefly with another member of the hospital staff. He nodded at him, stopping just behind Sam where he lingered in the doorway of his brother’s room.

“Your father’s awake. You can go see him if you want.”

“Doc,” Sam called his eyes on Dean. “What about my brother?”

The other man’s face tightened and he looked past Sam to Dean, who was in a similar state to Y/N. “Well, he sustained serious injury: blood loss, contusions to his liver and kidney. But it's the head trauma I'm worried about. There are early signs of cerebral edema.” Sam didn’t know what half of that meant, so he asked the only question he could think of.

“So… nothing. Same as Y/N.”

There was hesitation that answered Sam’s query before the doctor even spoke. “Well, we won't know his full condition until he wakes up. If he wakes up.”

Sam hated the word “if”.

He could lose his Omega.

He could lose his brother.

“Take me to my father.”

*****

_ Dean’s POV _

She looked in as bad shape as he did and Dean wished he could hold her close. His hand passed right through the bed she was on and he felt like crying. The heart monitor beeped loudly and the ventilator puffed as it breathed for her.

“How am I like this and you’re not?” he mused out loud. “Why is it just me?”

The door creaked open and Dean turned, backing into the corner as John wheeled in, one arm in a sling and his face drawn, pale. His eyes automatically found Y/N on the bed and Dean saw the real pain on his father’s face.

“No, no, no,” John murmured, getting as close to the bed as he could, reaching out to grasp one of her hands. She didn’t twitch. “No, baby girl…” The older man’s voice trailed off into a hiss and Dean felt his chest tighten. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. If Sam would have just pulled the trigger, this would all be over.”

Despite his previous failures, Dean needed to try and get someone to hear him. “Dad. You gotta tell us what you know. Is this worth keeping a secret? Seeing her, seeing me. Dad?” Frustration got the better of him and he slumped against the wall.

Sam appeared in the doorway, closing the door as he walked in with a brown paper bag, sitting on the bed opposite John. Neither of them spoke until Sam sucked in a breath and looked up at his father.

“She’s pregnant,” he informed him and John’s eyes went wide. Dean almost fell over where he stood at the end of the bed. “The doctor thinks about sixteen weeks along. I’m assuming the shock on your face means that you had no idea?” John shook his head slowly, gaping at his youngest son. “Guess your plan kinda failed huh?”

“What plan?” John asked, eyeing Sam suspiciously.

“That she’d be infertile because of the conversion. It was easy to see that was your aim. End the Winchester line with us, right? Dean and I wouldn’t be disloyal to her and she’d keep us out of trouble.” Sam sat back, keeping his eyes on her face.

“That was never my plan,” John commented, shaking his head and gripping the wheels of his chair, pushing backwards to turn. “You think I’m selfish, Sam… I didn’t want this for her.” He looked back over his shoulder when he reached the door. “I didn’t want it for any of you.”

Sam watched him leave, pouting in anger. When he was certain John was gone, he stood up and placed the brown paper bag on the bed, pulling out a talking board. “Sorry,” he murmured, pausing to lean over and place his hand on Y/N’s forehead.

Dean watched him, seeing the care with which he touched her. He knew about Sam leaving for college but he hadn’t known that Sam wanted to take her. It broke his heart to think of being separated from her - he couldn’t help but think if she were here, stuck like him, she’d figure it out in no time.

His eyes dropped to the item Sam had placed on the bed, huffing a laugh. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me.”

“Maybe one of you will be in here,” Sam mused, picking up the box and sitting cross legged on the floor at the end of his half-sister’s bed. He opened the box, pulling out the board before steeling himself. “Dean? Y/N? Are you here?”

Dean stared at him, rolling his eyes and then he plopped himself down opposite his brother. “God, I feel like I’m at a slumber party. All right, Sam. This isn’t going to work.” He placed his fingers on the pointer next to Sam’s and stared at it, concentrating. It moved and he guided it to the word “YES” on the board.

Sam gasped dramatically. 

“I’ll be damned,” Dean muttered.

“It’s good to hear from you,” Sam laughed in relief. “Is it Dean or -” Dean moved the pointer to “YES” again. “Just you?” “YES”  “Oh man,” Sam sighed, “it hasn’t been the same without you, Dean.”

Dean sat up straight, grinning. “Damn straight. Now to the important stuff.” He placed his fingers back on the pointer, guiding it to letters. Sam spelled them out, his heady jerking up when Dean finished by vibrating the pointer over the exclamation mark.

“Baby?” Sam asked, sitting back. “You heard that huh?” The pointer shook over the word “YES” as Dean scowled at his brother. Sam chuckled nervously. “Look, I don’t know what to do, I just gotta focus on getting you back. Where are you?”

The elder brother sighed, moving the point again, spelling out the hunt for Sam as the younger man tried to keep up, stopping when he summed everything up in one sentence.

“Man, you’re screwed.”

*****

_ John’s POV _

It was the last time he would see her. He’d hoped for a little more time and when Sam told him the truth, he’d about died there and then. John would never get to see her grow, become a mother - he’d never see her happy.

She might not wake up. He knew that but he hoped feverously that it wasn’t true. The boys would find a way to wake her up. He just needed to save them first.

Sam was preoccupied with something else, so John took his chances, sneaking off to the boiler room of the hospital. It took only a few moments to set up the summoning spell and he’d just finished the chant when someone walked in.

A hand landed on his shoulder and John knew when he turned that it wouldn’t be the janitor he was talking to. “What the hell are you doing down here, buddy?”

“I can explain,” John stuttered and the man’s eyes narrowed.

“Yeah? You're going to explain to security. Come on. You follow me,” he instructed, making to turn.

John pulled the Colt from his jacket, cocking it. The man grinned. “How stupid do you think I am?”

The man’s eyes glowed yellow and John’s jaw clenched. “You really want an honest answer to that?” Two men slinked from the shadow, sporting black eyes and white lab coats. The yellow eyed demon regarded him coolly. “You conjuring me, John. I'm surprised. I took you for a lot of things. But suicidally reckless wasn't one of them.”

“I could always shoot you,” John offered, shrugging his injured arm.

“You could always miss,” Yellow Eyes countered. “And you’ve only got one try, don'tcha? Did you really think you could trap me?”

John smirked. “Oh, I don't want to trap you.” He lowered the gun, seeing a look of confusion on his adversary’s face. “I want to make a deal.”

Confusion turned to intrigue

“It's very unseemly,” the demon drawled, moving to stand closer to John, “making deals with devils. How do I know this isn't just another trick?”

“It's no trick. I will give you the Colt and the bullet, but you've got to help my kids. You’ve got to bring them back.”

Yellow Eyes cocked his head to the side. “Why, John, you're a sentimentalist. If only your boys knew how much their daddy loved them.” He lowered his voice, bending forward a little. “Y/N is perfectly aware, of course,” he insinuated, wiggling his eyebrows lewdly.

John ignored his comment, pushing his deal. “It's a good trade. You care a hell of a lot more about this gun than you do Dean or Y/N.”

“Don't be so sure. He killed some people very special to me,” the demon sneered. “And it would be so delicious to watch you suffer losing another mate.” John’s hands shook with rage and he wanted nothing more than to shoot it dead. “But still,” he continued, “you're right, none of them are a threat. Not even your other son.”

There was a moment those yellow eyes just stared into his head and John’s chin dropped, his eyes darkening.

The demon smiled. “You know the truth, right? About Sammy? And the other children?”

“Yeah,” John admitted, strengthening his resolve. “I’ve known for a while.”

“But Sam doesn't, does he? You've been playing dumb.”

John growled impatiently. “Can you bring them back? Yes or no?”

“Pick one.” There a stunned silence and John gaped in surprise. The demon chuckled. “I can’t do it myself but I know someone who can. It’s not a problem. But you gotta pick one. Dean or Y/N?” John didn’t answer and Yellow Eyes laughed again. “There’s a time limit on this deal.”

“You can’t -”

“Fine, I’ll choose,” the demon shrugged, reaching out for the gun.

John snatched it out of his grasp, levelling him with a hard glare. “Dean,” he decided, his heart heavy in his chest. “Before I give you the gun, I’m going to want to make sure that he’s okay. With my own eyes.”

“Oh, John,” the yellow eyed demon admonished. “I'm offended. Don't you trust me?” Instantly, John shook his head and Yellow Eyes scoffed. “Fine.”

“So we have a deal?” John asked, watching his enemy closely.

“No, John, not yet. You still need to sweeten the pot,” the demon replied, sizing him up. “Bringing someone back from the veil isn’t easy.”

“What else do you want?” His voice was shaking when he asked the question and Yellow Eyes stepped closer, grinning his freaky twisted grin.

“You. Dead. Now.” The demand made John draw back. “You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side and if you want your son back, I need your soul to complete the transaction. You get enough time to say your goodbyes.”

John watched the demon extend his hand, contemplating the deal.

When he reached out and clasped the cold flesh of the man the demon was possessing, he felt his stomach roll, like someone had already snatched his spirit from his body.

“Fun fact -” the demon started, rolling his shoulders as he released John’s hand, “- I can sense Dean. He’s floating around, waiting to die but Y/N? Oh, she’s not anywhere around.” He leaned in close. “It was nice doing business with you, John.”

The three demons disappeared, leaving behind no trace but the faint scent of sulphur and John dropped to his knees. He didn’t have long, he knew that. He had to make sure that Dean was okay.


	25. Chapter 25

“Why did he choose me?”

Dean’s words were barely audible over the flames. He and Sam had been stood in silence, watching their father’s body burn on the pyre. Sam didn’t look at him when he spoke - things had been tense since he’d found Dad sprawled on the hospital room floor.

“I don’t know if he did, Dean. Remember, he said that she wasn’t in the same place as you. You were alone when you talked to me -”

“I still can’t believe that worked,” Dean mused and Sam grunted in irritation.

“She wasn’t close to death,” he pointed out. “You were. You died, Dean.” The shock of it seemed to hit him like a freight train. “That’s the second time I’ve watched you die,” he counted, staring at the flames. “I don’t think I can do that again.”

Dean remained silent, wiping at a stray tear. 

_ You know, when you were a kid, I'd come home from a hunt, and after what I'd seen, I'd be, I'd be wrecked. And you, you'd come up to me and you, you'd put your hand on my shoulder and you'd look me in the eye and you'd... You'd say "It's okay, Dad". _

Sam cleared his throat. “I’m gonna head back to the hospital, sit with her.”

“Okay,” Dean replied, not turning his gaze away from the fire. Sam’s footsteps crunched off but Dean remained.

_ You shouldn't have had to say that to me, I should have been saying that to you. You know I put, I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of your sister, you took care of me. You did that, and you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know that I am so proud of you. _

The flames crackled loudly, red embers and debris rolling from the bottom. It lit the grass for a split second and Dean stared at it, mesmerized.

His hand scratched at where he’d had the IV in his arm and he heard Bobby’s truck start. The Impala was a lump of twisted steel so he’d be stuck here until Bobby or Sam got back. Or he could borrow one of the older cars Bobby kept running.

Y/N still hadn’t woken up.

_ I want you to watch out for Sammy, okay? And look after Y/N - she’s yours as much as Sam’s. _

There was a lump in Dean’s throat. He should be at the hospital, watching over her. But instead, he was here, alone, with just his thoughts to torture him.

That, and his father’s last words.

_ Yellow Eyes wants Sam. I don’t know why but you’ve seen how dark he can get. If you can’t save him, Dean, you’re gonna have to kill him _ .

He’d argued. Kill Sam? He couldn’t do that any more than he could put a gun in his mouth.

_ I’m warning you, that’s all. I’ve got faith. Faith in you and faith in Sam and Y/N. But if you can’t save Sam, Dean, you gotta promise me - you kill him. _

Tears soaked his cheeks as he hung his head. He hated his dad for leaving this way. For not being there. He was overwhelmed with anger, sadness, loss and there was no seeking comfort from anyone. Bobby was distraught at how his surrogate daughter had ended up. Sam was a mess because of Dad, and Dean…

Dean didn’t know what to do.

Turning away from the fire, he trudged towards the house. Tomorrow, he’d go to the hospital. He’d sit with her and talk to her and she’d wake up.

If he told himself the lie enough, maybe he’d start to believe it.

*****

Sam didn’t expect to see Dean early the next morning. He’d spent the entire night at Y/N’s bedside, talking to her, reading to her. The hopes of his voice coaxing her from her slumber dwindled a little more with each day but he didn’t stop.

After a week, the first doctor had come to speak to them. He’d long stopped questioning the nature of the relationship, just letting it pass him by while he focused on trying to wake the Omega they clearly both cared about.

“It’s not good news, is it?” Dean asked, feeling Sam’s anxiousness permeate the room.

The doctor shook his head. “We haven’t seen any marked improvement in her brain activity. The wounds have healed but… there may be nerve damage we can’t see. If we can’t see it, we can’t fix it and I don’t want to go back into the OR with her.” He clasped his hands together in front of his body.

“What are our options?” Sam’s voice was quiet and Dean felt an odd compulsion to hug him but he brushed it off. Chick flick moments in front of a doctor were not a thing he was doing any time soon.

“We have some. We can keep her here until she’s delivered the baby by c-section. You two are her only kin - you’re responsible for what happens with the child.” The doctor paused, looking at each of them. “I’m assuming you don’t know who the father is.”

His question wasn’t answered by either brother but it was clear to see the look in their eyes.

It wasn’t the first time this particular doctor had seen an actual pack - Alphas sharing an Omega. But he’d only ever seen one family unit comprised of siblings. The blood between the girl and their father had matched for enough DNA markers for her to be his daughter; the doctor had added two to two and come up with four from there.

“Well, we’ll continue to monitor her,” he continued, holding out some pamphlets. Sam reached past Dean to take them, staring at the covers. “Insurance usually covers these places.”

“Are these… asylums?” Sam asked and the doctor shook his head.

“Care homes. Residential institutions for those in comatose states. Mostly the elderly, dementia sufferers, patients with conditions along those lines. They’re very well staffed and in the local area to your home address, in Sioux Falls?”

Dean nodded, pushing the pamphlets away when Sam offered them to him. “There’s nothing we can do?”

The doctor shook his head. “I’m very sorry. We’ve done all we can.”

*****

In the end, they opted for a smaller facility, closer to Sioux Falls. Bobby still had Y/N listed on his insurance from when she was a kid, which covered the fees for care.

The boys split their time between the salvage yard and the care home, usually taking shifts. Sam kept reading to her, still hoping for any change. Weeks passed and the baby was at twenty-one weeks when they were called away on a case.

Bobby was kinda grateful for it. Dean was suffering and Sam… Sam was silent, morose, barely interacting with anyone except Dean. The older man didn’t know what to do to fix them and neither of them would discuss the future with him.

When they returned from the hunt, they found out that it was a boy.

Something changed in Dean. Bobby woke one morning to hammering in the room that Y/N had claimed at the age of two when she’d finally grown out of the constantly-screaming-and-needing-to-be-held stage. He hadn’t blamed her - seeing your mother killed as a baby was enough to leave anyone with nightmares.

He was grateful that she had apparently gotten over that.

The eldest remaining Winchester was cleaning out Y/N’s room, moving her bed, and building a crib. Gallons of unopened white paint sat in the corner and Bobby leaned against the doorframe, watching Dean try to choose between ducks or elephants.

“I’d say ducks,” Bobby offered and the boy’s head snapped up.

“Ducks?” Dean confirmed. Bobby nodded with a smile.

“So you’re staying?”

“Yeah. I… we’ll hunt from here. When the baby comes… he’s gonna need a home and me and Sam… we have no clue what we’re doing. Y/N would know… she’d know…” Tears dripped onto the elephants and Dean tossed them to the floor, covering his face as Bobby approached. “I can’t do this without her.”

Bobby sighed, placing one hand on the young man’s shoulder, patting it comfortingly. He wasn’t much use with anyone being upset but there was one thing he was good at. “You got me too,” he offered, shrugging. “I’m a grumpy old coot but I know what kids like. Hell, I raised Y/N. Had a hand with you boys. And I’m good at diapers.”

Dean sobbed a laugh, wiping at his face, even though he wasn’t ashamed of the snot and tears in front of Bobby. Sam appeared in the doorway behind them, frowning at the room.

“I picked ducks,” Dean said, holding up the template.

Sam’s expression turned neutral and he nodded. “We’re gonna do this, huh?”

Dean fixed him with a glare as Bobby moved to pick up one of the tins of paint. “Sam - what choice do we have? You wanna give him up for adoption? Abandon him?” Sam didn’t reply but the anger in his eyes was clearly indicative of his answer. “He’s a Winchester. He stays with us. Besides, Y/N will kill us if she wakes up and her baby is gone.”

“She might not know she was even pregnant,” Sam muttered. “She might not know us. She might  _ never _ wake up!” His voice escalated and Dean’s face was red. “Why are you doing all this now? We should be out there, working cases and finding the goddamn demon that did this! Not picking out an animal to put on the walls, Dean.”

“Sam!” Bobby scolded but he was too late. Dean’s fist connected his brother’s face and the younger man went down with a grunt.

Dean stood over him, seething. “I love her too, Sam. She’s  _ our _ Omega. And you just wanna forget it and go hunting?” He scoffed in disgust. “You sound just like Dad.” Sam rubbed his jaw as Dean stormed out of the room and Bobby sighed, offering Sam his hand to get him off of the floor.

“Why don’t you tell him the truth, boy?” the older man asked and Sam hung his head. “I know you feel like you’ve gotta be strong for him but damn it all if he don’t need to see you’re hurting too.”

“I don’t want this to end badly,” Sam confessed, looking at the empty doorway. “I don’t know if us raising a kid in this life is any better than what Dad did to us.”

Bobby smiled, clapping Sam on the back. “You didn’t turn out bad at all, Sam. Like I said to Dean, you got me here too.”

*****

Neither of them was able to get back in time when they delivered the baby by c-section. Bobby was the first to hold the boy in his arms and told his mother how perfect he was. 

He only begged once for her to wake up.

By the time Dean and Sam returned, Y/N was ready to be transferred back to the facility and Sam signed the paperwork as the baby’s father. They argued over his name the whole way home.

It took a week for them to decide.

_ Thomas John Winchester _ , Sam wrote in his journal.  _ Born on the 8th January 2007 weighing 7lbs 3oz. _ He’d vowed to keep it every day until she woke up. He wanted her to know everything.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N: These are snippets from Sam’s diary, occasionally from where Dean has written in them. They cover from the date of Thomas’ birth through Sam regaining his soul.)

**Jan 20th 2007**

> _ Thomas is already sleeping through the night. We brought him to see you before you were discharged from the hospital back to Falls Rest. Dean got upset - he doesn’t talk much around you.  _
> 
> _ We decorated his room with ducks. Dean picked. I… I don’t really care about that. I miss you so much. _
> 
> _ I found a case not far from here. I’ll let you know how it goes. _

**Feb 1st 2007**

> _ I’m still having nightmares about the clowns. Dean bought Thomas a clown doll. I plan to burn it. _
> 
> _ Still not having any luck tracking down any mojo that could wake you up. I’ve sent your scans to a guy in Seattle who is some kind of brain surgeon. Maybe they can help. _

**March 12th 2007**

> _ Something bad is happening. My head hurts all the time. I haven’t had a rut since the accident. Dean thinks I should go to the doctor. He hasn’t even noticed that he hasn’t had one either. We’re heading out on a case this week, something killing prisoners in Arkansas. It’s mostly a favor to Deacon. I don’t know if you remember him.  _
> 
> _ Thomas is staying with Bobby. _
> 
> _ He rolled over this morning. Barely two months old. _
> 
> _ I wish you were here. _

**May 4th 2007**

> _ I haven’t written anything for days. I’m so sorry, baby. _
> 
> _ I died. _
> 
> _ I mean, apparently. Dean’s brushing it off like it’s nothing, but I remember the knife.  _ ~~_ I remember _ ~~ _ It hurt. _
> 
> _ Your face looks so beautiful when you sleep but I need you here. Please [illegible text] _

**May 5th 2007**

> _ Thomas woke me crying this morning. I sat with him for hours, just talking to him and telling him about you. I might have got a little upset. _
> 
> _ We saw Dad. Yellow Eyes is dead. And I’m sick of having to write this down. I wanna be able to tell you everything. Hear your voice. _
> 
> _ Dean sold his soul. You should be here kicking his ass with me. _
> 
> _This isn’t fair_ _It’s my fault_
> 
> _ I’m gonna fix this. I got an email back from the doctor in Seattle. Maybe they can wake you up. _

**May 20th 2007**

> _ Remember when Dean took off for that weekend in Indiana. Turns out he might have a kid with this woman Lisa Braeden. I remember him bragging about her. The boy is about eight and Lisa swears he isn’t Dean’s. I’m staying away. _
> 
> _ I feel angry when I see him with other women. He acts like you’re [illegible text] _
> 
> _ He didn’t tell her about Thomas. _

**May 23rd 2007**

> _ The Seattle doctor says he can’t help. We found a rabbit’s foot which gave us good luck but obviously not enough because you’re still asleep. That sounds crazy huh? Thomas is cutting his first tooth. That’s crazier. He’s turning into this whole little person. _
> 
> ~~_ I don’t want to do this without you. _ ~~

**July 31st 2007**

> _ I tried to make a deal for you and Dean. No one would take it. Dean hasn’t come home for three days. I think he might be with you but Thomas has a stomach bug and I don’t wanna leave him.  _
> 
> _ You’d know what to do if you were here. _
> 
> _ This wasn’t the dream I had. _

**October 24th 2007**

> _ Dean bought this little pumpkin outfit. He’s been home more lately and I think Bobby likes having us around. Thomas sleeps better when we’re both home. Maybe it’s the scent. He’s always calm when we’ve been to see you. _
> 
> _ He’s trying to talk now. Maybe you’ll hear him. _

**December 25th 2007**

> _ It was his first Christmas and you had to miss it. I took some photos so you can see but you should be here [illegible text]  _
> 
> _                                                                 ~~I’m sorry~~ _
> 
> _ Wake up, wake up, wake up. _

**Jan 8th 2008**

> _ Thomas is a year old. Bobby signed him up for daycare so he can make friends with other children. I think the old man has a crush on Miss Willins, the daycare nurse. He even went to a nursery rhyme session the other day. You’d laugh at him for being a proud grandfather.  _
> 
> _ We’ll bring him to see you tomorrow, I promise.  _

**Feb 14th 2008**

> _ Bobby met a dreamwalker. There’s this stuff, African dream root, that lets you go into someone else’s dreams. It might be a way to talk to you. Dean suggested we rest before we try and wake you up. _
> 
> _ Thomas said “Dada” today. Dean said he was talking to me. _
> 
> _ We still haven’t done the paternity test.  _

**Feb 17th 2008**

> _ The dream root didn’t work. There was just...  nothing. I don’t even know if you’re in there. _
> 
> _ Dean drank himself to sleep. Thomas is still awake so I’m watching a documentary on sharks that you would have liked. He likes to sleep on my chest sometimes and I’ve seen him sleep on Dean loads. I’ve got a really good picture of them in the back of the Impala a few weeks ago. We took him out to the park which seemed really abnormally normal. I kept taking photos. Thomas likes the camera. I think Dean got annoyed the women in the park thought we were gay. _
> 
> _ Which is actually easier than explaining the real situation. _
> 
> _ I’ll keep the photos. I want you to see them. _
> 
> _ Sometimes I dream the day over and you’re there with us. _

**March 17th 2008**

> _ I spoke to you on the phone today. It wasn’t you, not really, but for a second I let myself believe and I shouldn’t. I miss you so much. Just having you in my arms, sleeping… I just wanna see your eyes open. I want you to see your boy. _
> 
> _ He’s talking more and more every day. Dean has full conversations with him. _
> 
> _ Why aren’t you here? _
> 
> _ Why won’t you wake up? _
> 
> _ Dean’s going to be dead in two months. I need you both. _

**_May 1st 2008_ **

> _ I’m going to lose him too _

**May [6th or 9th - writing is unclear] 2008**

> _ Dean’s deal… it’s just me and Thomas now. Well, and Bobby. Thomas is starting to walk - he was already climbing and crawling. He’s so tall. Bobby thinks we should get the paternity test done. Dean isn’t here to be upset now. _
> 
> _ I still think I can bring him back. _

**July 15th 2008**

> _ I haven’t written in here for weeks. I left Thomas with Bobby and went looking for a way to get Dean back. I promised him I wouldn’t but I gotta try something. Anything. I think Thomas is better off with Bobby now. I can’t drag him along on this hunt. Bobby doesn’t seem to mind retiring a little to stay home with him. And he raised you. He’s better off. _
> 
> _ You’re going to tear me a new one. I’m letting you down. _
> 
> _ But I have to get Dean back. _

**September 22nd 2008**

> _ I don’t know how but Dean is alive. He says it was an angel named Castiel. _
> 
> _ Angels. _
> 
> _ I can’t help but think they might be able to help you. _

**October 20th 2008**

> _ I only just got him back and then nearly lost him again. We’re driving back to Sioux Falls right now. We haven’t seen Thomas in over a week and I miss him so much. _
> 
> _ Dean hasn’t been to see you since he was resurrected. I don’t know why. He won’t talk about it. He hasn’t got any of the scars from before - I haven’t been able to see if he still has your mark. _
> 
> _ I can’t wait to see Thomas. Bobby has been calling every day if we don’t call him. He talks so much! Thomas that is. Bobby calls him Tommy. I’m not sure how I feel about that. _

**November 1st 2008**

> _ Dean’s calling him Tommy now too. _
> 
> _ He’s pissed at me. There was a demon called Samhain and the angels were going to destroy the entire town. _
> 
> _ I’m not a fan of angels so far. Castiel said he couldn’t heal you. I think he’s lying. I yelled at him. I don’t think he likes me. _
> 
> _ When you wake up, you’re gonna hear things about me you won’t like. But I don’t care. Just wake up, please. _

**Dec 25th 2008**

> _ Happy Holidays. _

**Jan 9th 2009**

> _ Tommy turned 2 today. He likes chocolate cake and hates pie which Dean isn’t happy about. _
> 
> _ I still haven’t told Dean about the results of the paternity test. I think the only reason he carries on these days is for the kid and it would crush him to know he’s an uncle, not a father. Tommy calls him Pops. _

**March 30th 2009**

> _ I forgot. _
> 
> _ The angels took us out of our lives. Gave us false memories. Dean was a single father. If they’d taken Thomas away from us… we knew it wasn’t real as soon as I saw my son. _
> 
> _ Dean knows now. _
> 
> _ I don’t think he cares. _

**April 13th 2009**

> _ We’re still trying to track Lilith. We found these books, like really bad books. It had all about our lives in it. Except you. You… weren’t there. Thomas isn’t in them. We tracked down the author. He’s some kind of prophet and he didn’t include you because he didn’t feel it made the reader sympathetic. Like you’re a secret. _
> 
> _ I hate that. _
> 
> _ We’re gonna find Lilith and kill her. I’m gonna do this for you. _

**April 18th 2009**

> _ Adam Milligan. _
> 
> _ That was the name of our brother. Dad had some sort of relationship with some woman. He was four years younger than you. Some ghoul was impersonating him and we were too late. _
> 
> _ Another person I couldn’t save. _
> 
> _ Dean’s pissed. He’s spent the last few hours shooting bottles in the backyard. Tommy is playing soccer with Bobby and winning. _
> 
> _ I’m gonna stop the Apocalypse for him. I don’t want my son to grow up in that. _

**May 20th 2009**

> _ Let you down again. I’m sorry. _

**August 2nd 2009**

> _ I really thought I could do it. I quit hunting. Took Thomas and moved to Oklahoma after we took out War, one of the Horsemen I wrote about the other day. Managed to keep my head down for a couple of weeks. _
> 
> _ You can’t leave this life. _

**August 7th 2009**

> _ You would be 23 now. I spent two days sleeping on a cot in your room before I went back to Dean with Thomas. The nurses love him, call him “little Tommy”. He slept in your bed last night, curled up to you and sucking his thumb. Can’t seem to get him out of that habit. He knows you’re his mom. He knows you’re sleeping and can’t wake up. _
> 
> _ He was trying though. Calling to you. _
> 
> _ I thought maybe it might work. But it doesn’t look like anyone has the power to bring you back. _

**August 13th 2009**

> _ I’ve spent a little more time at Bobby’s. Dean and I had a fight. He hasn’t been to see you in three months. He went into rut last week and came back reeking of some Beta. He told me I should get some “relief”. _
> 
> _ I still haven’t had a rut since you went to sleep. Feels like that part of me is dead. Maybe it’s sleeping, like you. _
> 
> _ The only time I feel remotely human is when I have Tommy with me. _

**Feb 15th 2010**

> _ We killed Famine. _
> 
> _ Dean’s so empty. It’s like he’s given up. There’s a spark in him when he’s around our boy. Maybe Thomas is the only reason we’re both still going. _
> 
> _ I wish Dean was his dad sometimes. Biologically. Tommy sees us as his parents, and doesn’t question how weird it is. If Dean was his, I know he wouldn’t be so broken. Me? I’m no good to anyone like this. I’ll save the world to save my son but I don’t care if I die doing it any more. _
> 
> _ You’re never gonna forgive me for the things I might have to do. _

**March 31st 2010**

> _ Dean was going to say yes. To the angels, to the world ending - everything. We stopped him, but he’s still not right. _
> 
> _ It just makes me more intent on doing this for everyone. We had an incident a few weeks ago with corpses rising in Sioux Falls and the Sheriff there, Jody Mills? She’s a good person. I know you knew her growing up at Bobby’s. Anyway, she’s going to look after Tommy for a little while. Just until we fix the apocalypse. _
> 
> _ If we don’t come back, at least I know he’s got someone to look after him. _

**April 1st 2010**

> _ I won’t be coming back from this. Dean will have the journal and he’s promised to take Thomas and go to Cicero. He’s gonna try and give him the kind of life he deserves. _
> 
> _ I’m going to put the devil back in his box. It means I’ll never see you again. If you do wake up… I hope you will go to Dean. He’s not right without you. We don’t talk about it but we don’t need to. _
> 
> _ Lisa isn’t his Omega but she’ll make sure he’s loved. It’s a family, right? _
> 
> _ Family is just as good as a pack. _

**Sep** **09/09/2010**

> _ Sam’s gone. _
> 
> _ I promised him I’d write in this thing but I don’t know what what to put. I only just opened it. I kinda wanna read what he put but he’s done this nearly every day for the past three and a half years and Sam likes words. _
> 
> _ I love you, sweetheart. I wish I could talk to you. I tried to talk to Lisa but she doesn’t understand it. How could she? _
> 
> _ Tommy decided he wanted to be called “TJ” because it’s cooler. I’ll try and talk him out of it. Lisa called him Thomas-John once and I’d never seen Sammy’s bitch face on a kid so young before. I put her straight before he threw a tantrum. _
> 
> _ We’re too far away from you for regular visits now. I’ll come when I can, but Bobby will pick up the slack while we’re not around. _
> 
> ~~_ Be a lot easier if you woke up. _ ~~

**09/14/2010**

> _ I don’t know how Sam did this every day. It rained a lot this week. We painted TJ’s new room. He still wants to be called TJ. How does a three year old get that much attitude? At least Ben likes bossing him around. Don’t know how long that will last. _
> 
> _ Lisa knows who his dad is. She knows about you and Sam but she doesn’t know about me and you. Or you and Dad. Or that you’re our half-sister. I mean, she thinks I’m half-crazy as it is. _
> 
> _ I’ll tell her the truth. _
> 
> _ One day. _

**10/21/2010**

> _ I couldn’t find the camera to take a picture but TJ went as “Frankenstein” to a Halloween party tonight. It was so normal. _
> 
> _ You would have enjoyed it. _

**12/25/2010**

> _ I’m so bad at this. I’m so sorry. I haven’t written in here in a month and TJ asked about you today. Asked why we weren’t going to see you. Lisa told him that his mom wouldn’t want him sitting in a smelly hospital room on Christmas Day. _
> 
> _ She canceled my weekend last month. I was supposed to see you. I haven’t laid eyes on you in 47 days and three hours. She doesn’t like it, I know that. _
> 
> _ TJ wrote his name today. He loves daycare so much. _

**01/16/2011**

> _ Sam’s alive. _

**01/17/2011**

> _ I told Lisa the truth. She wasn’t happy. She told me I had to choose between you and her. Took TJ and went back to Bobby’s. _
> 
> _ She would never make me happy. _
> 
> _ I need you back. _
> 
> _ I’m gonna give the journal back to Sam tonight. He’s better at this than me. _

*****

**March 2011**

_ Sam’s POV _

Sam picked up the journal, frowning at it. A fine layer of dirt covered the top and he blew that off, opening the first page, seeing Thomas’ name displayed in bold letters.

He didn’t remember when he’d last seen it.

“Still goin’ with that thing, huh?” Dean asked, passing by with TJ’s car seat in his hands. “You ready to hit the road?”

“Er,” Sam paused, staring at the book. “Yeah, I guess. Hey, Dean, when did you give this back to me?”

Dean frowned, lifting his head from where he’d ducked to secure the seat. “A couple months ago, I think.” There was a banging sound as TJ emerged from the back of Bobby’s house, leaving the screen door to clatter shut. “Hey, buddy!” Dean called, bending to catch the four-year-old as he barrelled into his arms.

“Pops!” TJ screeched, instantly colliding the toy airplane in his tiny fist with Dean’s temple.

Sam smiled, putting the journal back in the trunk. He’d pick it up later and put an entry in there. He wasn’t entirely surprised that his soulless self didn’t bother. Most of the year was bits and pieces but he remembered going to see Y/N. He remembered talking to her and being confused about his need to be with her.

In nearly five years, the need hadn’t lessened.

“Shall we?” Dean asked, picking TJ up and putting him in the backseat. “Wanna get on the road before it’s dark. He should sleep the whole way.” Sam nodded, shutting the trunk and walking around to the passenger side. The boy in the back whooped as Dean started the car, earning a smile in the rearview mirror.

“Hey, could we make a stop?” Sam murmured, picking at his fingernails.

Dean looked over at him, smiling. “I was gonna stop there on the way out of town anyway, dude.” The younger of the two brothers returned the smile and nodded. “Wanna go see Mama, little man?”

“Yes!” TJ yelled, louder than he really needed to. He zoomed his plane around the back seat, giggling when Dean drove over bumps on the driveway out of Bobby’s yard. “Maybe today she’ll wake up.”

Sam felt his heart drop into his stomach. He used to believe that. Forcing a grin on his face, he avoided looking at his son in the backseat. “Maybe,” he said quietly.

_ Maybe _ .


	27. Chapter 27

_ May 2016 _

They say that people in comas can sometimes hear the world around them. Time didn’t really exist in your head and it felt more like a restful dream. Something smothered you like a blanket but you were quite content to listen, letting the darkness hold you where you were.

Snippets of stories when Sam read to you made you even comfier so you felt no need to fight against that warmth. At first, you heard more. You heard voices of other visitors and patients, the bustle of machines. Dean sat with you but only ever whispered three words and it was the only way you knew he was there.

Sometimes you didn’t hear anything at all.

Eventually, the other voices faded and there were only four. You forgot their names but when they spoke, the blanket almost lifted.

Three voices became two deep tones and a younger, boyish voice that changed every time you heard it but you never remembered that. The voices were just an interlude to sleep.

_ We met a woman on a case. She was… the first woman I’d felt anything for since you. But I didn’t give in. I can’t. It feels too much like I’m betraying you. _

_ She’s not gonna feel anything right? _

_ Love you, sweetheart. _

_ This is your son, Thomas John Winchester. _

_ Dean and Sam are out east, so you’ve got me for company. Looks like we’re reading0=- Wuthering Heights again. _

_ Love you, sweetheart. _

_ Something bad happened. Dean’s gonna die and I don’t know how to save him. _

_ Can you say, “Mama”? _

_ He’s cutting his first tooth. _

_ Love you, sweetheart. _

_ Dean’s dead. I’m staying here, with Thomas and with you. Bobby says we can stay at his house, Tommy’s been there most of the time anyway. I swear, his room is the most warded room in existence. Bobby lined the goddamn walls with iron. _

_ See, he’s getting so big now. _

_ I’m sorry we haven’t been by. Dean’s alive. _

_ Love you, sweetheart. _

_ TJ started school today. We’re gonna bring him by soon. _

_ Mommy. I drew you a picture. Wake up. _

_ So you can’t heal her? I thought you were supposed to be all-powerful? _

_ I don’t know why I keep coming back. I don’t care about anything else but when I try to stay away from you… Dean’s with Lisa now. I’ve kept away for almost a year but I need Thomas back. Thinking about him growing up with someone else… he’s mine, Y/N. He belongs to me and Dean and you. I’m gonna fix this. _

_ Love you, sweetheart. _

_ Bobby’s gone. I wish you were here so much, Y/N. Seeing Tommy growing every day, you should be here. Please, baby, open your eyes. Please. _

_ I gotta try and give him a normal life. With Dean gone - I’m quitting. I’m gonna take Thomas and go find somewhere - _

_ Mommy? We’ve got a house now. Well, it’s kind of a house. It’s really cool. If you wake up, you can come see it. _

_ He’s excited, both of them are. It’s safe and secure. I mean, he’s six now, so he doesn’t always get it. But we’re doing our best, I promise. _

_ You gotta stay here, Thomas, promise me. You stay right here and don’t move okay? _

_ Dad says that Pop is being a bad man. Uncle Castiel is gonna fix him. Can I get in bed with you, Mama? _

_ Thomas, you can’t keep climbing in there. You’re nearly nine, buddy. _

_ Love you, sweetheart. _

_ I asked Dad if I could be here with you. They don’t want me near the bad guys, so I gotta keep you safe. I’m staying with Jody. She’s nice. _

*****

It was silent. Totally and utterly silent. Something new roused you and you realized that you could feel something heavy laying next to you, leaning into your body. It was the first new sensation in what felt like an eternity and for a little while you laid there, waiting for the fog to drag you back down.

It didn’t.

Light filtered through your eyelids and you could feel your limbs stretch out. The weight beside you moved and you forced your eyes to open only to close them again when the brightness of the outside world hurt. 

“Mom?” A whispered voice that somehow seemed familiar made you try to open them again, just as the weight next to you shifted and disappeared. The room dimmed with the swooshing sound of fabric being moved and you managed to open your eyes wide.

There was a little boy stood next to your bed, staring at you with astonishment. His eyes were the same color as Sam’s.

“Mom?”

You frowned, unsure of the situation. The last thing you remembered was being in the Impala and… there was a truck. “Who are you?” you rasped, expecting him to be hurt you didn’t know him but he jumped up and down.

“Thomas! I’ve been waiting for you to wake up my whole life!” He was shouting with excitement, which confused you further and you were about to demand answers when the door opened. You recognized the woman who walked in, despite the fact that she’d aged at least ten years.

“Thomas Winchester, why are you -” Jody Mills went white as a sheet and froze in the doorway as she met your worried gaze. “Y/N?”

“Sheriff Mills?” 

“My mom’s awake!” The boy, Thomas, sprinted across the room, colliding with Jody and forcing the air from her lungs. “We’ve gotta call Dad!”

“Slow down there,” Jody hushed, pointing him towards the corridor. “Go find Elsie for me, will you? Your mom needs to see the doctor.” He nodded, dashing out into the hall and disappearing. “Y/N…,” she said, moving closer to you.

“He’s… he’s mine?” you murmured hesitantly, staring at the open door. Jody nodded. “But he’s… he’s… so grown up...”

“He’s nine,” she explained, lowering herself to sit in the chair by your bed. Thomas’ eager shouts echoed through the halls and footsteps came towards your room. “Y/N, you’ve been in a coma for ten years.”

*****

Falls Rest was in the rearview mirror of Jody’s station wagon. You sat in the back, watching Thomas in the front seat, still amazed that this little person was yours. The Winchester in him was plain to see - the Sam in him was even easier.

Ten years of your life was gone. Jody had filled you in on as much as she could in the two days that they’d insisted you remain at the facility. At first, the doctors thought you’d need physical therapy for the muscles you hadn’t used. You’d certainly lost weight while doing absolutely nothing.

You walked out of there in perfect physical condition and left the doctors stunned.

Jody couldn’t get hold of the boys. You’d suggested Bobby, then spent a good few hours sobbing when you found out he was gone. That was the planned first stop on the way back into main Sioux Falls.

Bobby had a small memorial in the local cemetery, next to his wife Karen. Jody had offered to take you there, so you could say goodbye the way you should’ve been able to. Thomas talked the whole time about his “Gramps” and you were glad he’d at least gotten to know the man who raised you for half your life.

The house was gone but Jody had a place. Dean and Sam had some kind of bunker - “Pops calls it the Batcave but Dad says he’s an idiot,” Thomas informed you - though Jody decided it was better for you to stay with her until she could get hold of your brothers.

She didn’t seem in the least bit disturbed about your unconventional relationship with the boys - if you even had that anymore. You didn’t expect either of them to stay celibate for ten years but the thought of bringing it up with the sheriff hurt your heart too much and you didn’t want to upset Thomas.

You couldn't bring yourself to ask about John.

Jody’s house was huge and she had two girls living with her. Claire, a blond spitfire who was around the age you were - that you still felt - when you got hurt, and Alex, who acted suspicious of the woman who slept for a decade. Thomas had his own room at Jody’s and the girls treated him like family, which made you glad.

At least he had people, even if he didn’t have you.

“I’m off to work,” Alex said, pecking Jody on the cheek and ruffling Thomas’ thick brown hair. “See ya later, TJ.”

“Ugh, that’s not my  _ name _ anymore!” the boy protested, poking his tongue out at her and Alex laughed on her way out the door. “I liked it,” Thomas defended, turning his attention back to you. “But I’m too old for that baby name.”

“Do you prefer Tom?” you asked, watching him as he dragged a big red binder from the shelving unit and hauled it over to you. He placed it in your hands with a smile and you read the elegant silver lettering on the front that spelled out “MEMORIES”. 

“Sometimes Pops calls me Tommy,” he mused, “but he still calls Dad Sammy.” A big smile lit his face. “I don’t care what you call me,” he decided. “I’m just happy you’re awake.” He sat next to you as you tried to hold back the tears. Already you were in love with him, this bright beautiful boy that your Alphas had raised in your absence.

“Thomas stays with me sometimes. Mostly during the school year. Dean and Sam stop by on weekends if it’s safe.” Jody placed a cup of coffee in front of you, sitting in the chair opposite as Thomas opened the photo album in your lap. “He’s been making that for a few years. Waiting to show you,” she said, nodding at the book. “He even makes his dads take photos on cases.”

Looking down at the first page, you saw Polaroids of a baby, only a few days old. Thomas pointed at one with Dean holding him with a grin. “Dad said I was fresh there and Pop tells everyone I looked like a potato.” An unstoppable laugh preceded your tears and Thomas’ face fell.

Jody sat forward, stretching her arms out to take the book. You couldn’t stop crying and the boy didn’t know what to do. “Thomas, could you go and try calling your dad?” she asked softly. “Your mom needs a minute.” He nodded, scurrying off and Jody closed the photo album, placing it on the coffee table. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Jody soothed, reaching out for your hands.

The dam was broken and you slumped forward, the grief of your lost time taking you down. Jody kneeled beside you on the floor, holding you against her chest as she tried to soothe your tears and you tried to get a grip.

“I can’t believe this happened,” you sobbed, shaking your head and wiping your eyes furiously. “I’ve missed his whole life. Everything.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jody replied, stroking your hair out of your face. “You were hurt, badly. Just be glad he made it through. You were sixteen weeks pregnant when that car wreck happened.”

“I didn’t even get to do the easy part,” you whispered, hugging your knees to your chest. “I… they had to do it alone.”

“They weren’t alone,” Jody reminded you. “They had Bobby. They have me, and the girls, and half a dozen other people. Thomas has never been alone. And neither have you. We made sure someone was with you as much as we could.” She smiled as she cupped your face and made you look at her. “I know the boys never stopped hoping you would wake up.”

“But why now?” you asked and Jody shrugged.

“I’m hoping we’ll know more when I get hold of your brothers.” Thomas walked back in, holding out Jody’s phone. “No answer, sweetie?” He shook his head.

Raising your chin, you looked at him. Your son. He was perfect and handsome, with Sam’s dimples and a mischievous glint in his eyes that reminded you of Dean. What did they even look like now?

You didn’t recognize your own reflection, let alone anyone else.

“Mom?” Thomas hovered back, apprehension on his young features. “I’m sorry I made you cry.”

Agony lanced through your heart like a spear and you reached out to him desperately. He didn’t even hesitate and threw himself onto the floor into your arms and started crying. There were no words from him and you held him close, renewed tears in your eyes.

“You didn’t make me cry,” you whispered, cradling him close. “This wasn’t your fault.”

Jody stood and walked away, trying to get hold of either of the Winchesters, leaving you and Thomas to talk and catch up.


	28. Chapter 28

**_Two weeks later_ **

“They’re on their way.”

Jody’s voice held too much tension for your liking and you looked up from where Thomas was showing you his favorite cartoons. The boy smiled when you rubbed his shoulder and got to your feet, following Jody through to the kitchen.

“You don’t sound so sure about that,” you said quietly, leaning against the countertop while she poured a coffee. “Is something wrong?”

Her face was stoic and you knew that she wouldn’t lie. You trusted Jody. “I asked where they were. I… didn’t tell them about you. I wasn’t sure what to do and Dean didn’t ask to talk to Thomas like he usually does. Something big went down before you woke up, with the Darkness, er, Amara?”

“And God. Yeah. I got that,” you mumbled. “I didn’t quite understand it -”

“Oh, honey, nobody does,” Jody breathed, placing a hand on her hip as she sipped at her coffee. “Anyway, long story short… their mom is alive.”

It felt like the room filled with ice. Mary Winchester was alive?

“Now, I’m not sure of the entire family history. I don’t know what they’ve told her. But they’re coming back this way towards the bunker to pick up Thomas.” You nodded dumbly, unsure what to even say. “You can stay here if you don’t want to go back with them…”

“No,” you snapped before schooling your features. “No, I wanna stay with Thomas. I’ve… I’ve missed too much already,” you murmured. “Besides, she’s not my mother. And… and John’s gone, so…” It still hurt to think about him. Jody hadn’t known all the details - you needed Dean and Sam to fill in the blanks.

“Are you going to tell them?” Jody asked quietly. “About -” She gestured to your neck and you swallowed, covering the spot where your three marks used to be. Whatever had woken you, had healed every scar and injury you ever had, yet you remained Omega. If anything, you felt more Omega than you had before.

You didn’t question it. But it couldn’t be a coincidence that something had brought you and Mary back within weeks of each other. “When did it happen?” you thought aloud and Jody hummed in confusion. “When did Mary come back?”

Jody sighed. “The same night you did.”

“That’s a bit of a coincidence,” you mused and Jody huffed.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“How far out are they?”

Jody finished her coffee, pushing away from the counter. “About four hours. I gotta go finish the rest of my patrol and I’ll grab dinner on the way home, okay?” You nodded, staring at the sink. “Try not to worry. Those boys are gonna be nothin’ but happy to see you.”

You nodded, unsure if you believed that or not. Jody gave you a reassuring smile, laying one hand on your shoulder and squeezing briefly before she left the room. A few moments later, you turned, heading back into the sitting room where Thomas was still watching his cartoon.

“Your da- er, Dean and Sam are gonna be back soon,” you muttered, retaking your seat next to him. Thomas smiled, turning those big puppy dog eyes on you and your heart stammered in your chest. How was it possible to love another human this much?

“They’re gonna be really happy to see you,” Thomas whispered, his eyes shining with tears as he launched himself into your hold. “We can be a real family.”

You closed your eyes, feeling your tears fall as you embraced him tightly. Those ten years were gone and you’d never get them back. But you had to move past that and focus on the future.

It was the only way to go on.

*****

The sound of the Impala in the driveway made your lungs stop functioning for a moment and Thomas was already bounding towards the door. He flung it open and you heard Dean’s voice, lower than you remembered but the effect was the same.

“Hey, buddy!”

Thomas ran off but you remained in the house, frozen by fear. A million thoughts went through your mind; what if they didn’t want you anymore? What if they’d found new… new Omegas or new women? No one had mentioned anything but it was possible.

Suddenly you were backing into the wall, making yourself as small as possible when two large shadows filled the doorway and Thomas’ chatter became clear enough to make out the words. “You’re gonna be so happy, I just know it!”

He appeared first, calling for you and you felt like an animal in headlights with nowhere to go. Thomas ran towards you, pointing behind him.

“Mom! They’re back!”

There was confusion on their faces at his shouts but they followed. You could see the change in both of them when they saw you. Sam’s jaw clenched and Dean was consumed by rage, pulling a gun and aiming it directly at you.  Thomas yelled, blocking you with his smaller body and holding his hands up towards Dean. Sam was staring at you, those intense eyes burning into your chest. His attention dropped to your neck, bare of scars and his throat clenched.

“Pops, it’s her! I promise! Jody ran the drill, I was there when she woke up! Dad! Please!” Thomas was near to tears and the sound of your child in pain snapped you out of your staring contest with your brothers. You pulled him close, hugging him tightly, ignoring Dean’s cocking of the gun.

“Dean,” Sam snapped, drawing his brother’s attention.

“We need to be sure it’s her,” Dean stated, his hand shaking. He was close to tears as he kept the gun trained on you.

“It’s her,” Sam whispered. “Just stop and…” He trailed off and Dean frowned before looking back at you. His head tilted to the side as he inhaled deeply, keeping his eyes trained on you as you comforted Thomas. “It’s her,” Sam repeated, breathing out audibly.

The gun lowered slowly before Dean put the safety on and absently dropped it onto the coffee table on his way towards you. You opened your eyes, catching his just before he wrapped his arms around you and Thomas. “It’s you,” he rasped, voice thick with emotion. “I can smell it’s you.”

You nodded, reaching up to cup his face, smiling through your tears. “It’s me,” you replied, kissing him softly on the lips.

Dean kept bobbing his head but he didn’t speak as he pulled you close. You relaxed into his hold, relief flooding your body at your Alpha’s touch.

Sam hadn’t moved. When you pulled back from Dean, he pried Thomas out of your arms and the boy clung to him. Your eyes went to Sam and in a few strides, you were stood in front of him, looking up into his face.

They’d both aged well. The lines around Sam’s eyes were a little deeper than Dean’s but they both carried a haunted and tired look in their eyes. Sam’s hair was longer and you reached up to run your fingers through it. “I like your hair,” you whispered with a smile.

The big Alpha dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around your waist, closing his eyes tight as he wept silently. You held him close, cradling his head against your belly, trying not to let more tears fall. You had always been closer to Sam, not that it made much difference to how much you loved both of them.

“You’re here,” Sam mumbled, pressing his face harder into your stomach and you could feel the tears soaking through the fabric of your shirt.

Jody’s station wagon rumbled up the drive, the lights framing a new figure in the doorway. Dean looked up from when he held Thomas close, his eyes landing on his mother. “Mom -”

Mary Winchester’s gaze swept over the entire room, landing on you and her youngest son before falling to his eldest and the child he held in his arms. “Dean, I -” A car door slammed and the woman jumped, standing back as Jody walked up the front path.

“My god,” she stated loudly. “You’re Mary, right?”

“Er, yeah,” Mary replied, taking Jody’s hand as she offered it. “I wasn’t - who is she?” she asked and Jody’s eyes slid to you. Sam was still on his knees, clinging to you and you looked back hopelessly, unsure what Mary knew.

“Shit, I was hoping to be back before you guys got here… Dean, Sam…”

“You didn’t say anything,” Dean accused, his eyes flashing with anger. “How long?”

“Two weeks,” Jody replied, stepping into the house. Mary teetered on the threshold, unsure whether to step into what could become a shouting match. Dean’s rage was evident in his flushed cheeks and the boy in his arms tugged on his shirt.

“Pops, don’t…”

Sam pulled away, getting to his feet but his hands caught yours and held you fast against him. “It’s okay. It’s… fuck, I don’t care. You’re back, you’re awake, you’re…” His cupped your face, kissing you firmly and you blinked, too shocked to respond. “You’re here,” he finished, pressing his forehead against yours.

Despite your mark no longer existing, you felt the connection. With one finger, you pulled down the collar of his shirt, seeing his mark still visible on his throat. It was silver against the tan of his skin but it was there, and a rumble of contentment echoed in his throat. “I’m here,” you assured him, nuzzling into his chest.

“Erm,” Thomas whispered, poking Dean gently. “Who’s that?” He pointed to Mary, who stared back at him in wonder, obviously aware of who he was. “You called her “Mom”.”

Dean’s eyes were comically wide for a second; none of you had really prepared for Thomas meeting his long-lost grandmother. The boys hadn’t told him and you’d only found out hours before. Luckily, it appeared Mary was more than able to cope with explaining.

She moved forward, crouching down to his level - Thomas kept his gaze wary and stayed close to his dad. “I’m Mary,” she said, offering her hand slowly. “You’re Thomas right?” He nodded but his eyes strayed to Sam’s for approval that this stranger was safe. You felt Sam shift, catching his nod as you looked up at him.

“Hi, Mary,” the boy said, his voice small and nothing like the bold, noisy child you’d gotten to know. He’d never shown you this timid side, a fact that inspired a small, petty part of you to want to lord that over Mary. You watched cautiously as Thomas moved closer, wondering how he was going to react to someone coming back from the dead.

Sam’s arm clenched around your waist when Thomas hugged Mary and for a second, you bathed in the smile on his face, how happy he seemed, despite everything.

And when that second passed, doubt swallowed the happiness.

You knew so little about their lives since you’d been hurt. And you wondered, now that Mary was back - would the boys even need you anymore?


	29. Chapter 29

A six hour drive with five people in the Impala didn’t sound appealing to anyone, so Jody offered her services to drive you and Thomas back to the bunker. She hadn’t managed to convince either of the boys to stay for one night, even when she pulled out the big guns - Alex had promised Thomas a horror movie marathon.

Sam had reluctantly postponed it and you’d watched him sit with the smallest Winchester, explaining it to him. Thomas was mature about it but there was no stopping the disappointed slump in his posture as he slipped into the backseat of Jody’s car. You slid in beside him, leaving the front seat empty.

“You can ride shotgun if you like,” you offered, smiling at him. “I usually like riding in the back.”

Thomas shook his head, beaming his own gappy grin back at you. “It’s okay. I wanna sit with you. I still haven’t finished telling you all the awesome movies you missed that we have to watch on Netflix.” You laughed, catching Jody’s eyes in the rearview.

She had got her way about one thing - sitting down for a coffee before leaving. Thomas had to pack his stuff anyway, so it gave everyone a chance to explain the last two weeks.

Sam had been captured at some point by a woman from the British Men Of Letters. He’d been through something awful - you could see it in his eyes. Now that the shock of seeing you had worn off, you knew this was a Sam you’d never seen before. He was burdened and guarded, which hurt. What had happened in ten years to make your gentle giant of a brother so different?

Finding out Dean had gone on a suicide mission made your heart stop. He avoided your eyes the entire time, opting to sit on a stool on the other side of the room - Sam was as close to you as he could possibly get without being obscene in Jody’s front room.

And Mary… you were conflicted about her. Dean explained that when he’d reunited God and his sister - a sentence that he promised to explain later - he’d found his mom in the woods. When they got back to their bunker, Sam was missing and they set out to find him.

Apparently answering the phone in that time wasn’t on their list of priorities.

By the time Thomas came down with his duffel bag - comically huge on his small frame - the tension in the room was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Jody placed her offer to drive you and Thomas on the table and you accepted.

Neither of the Alphas fought the decision.

Thomas talked about his favorite movies for the first two of five-hour drive before falling asleep against you on the backseat. You watched him, not moving, barely daring to breathe, entranced by his relaxed features. You’d never seen Sam at this age, except for in pictures, but you imagined there would be little difference between him and his son.

There was no chance he wasn’t Sam’s.

You wondered if Dean knew, if he cared. It was clear they both loved the boy more than anything.

“We’re nearly there,” Jody said, interrupting your thoughts as you watched the streetlights cast shadows over your son’s face. You nodded absently, sighing as Thomas shifted in his sleep. “He’s a great kid, Y/N.”

“I know,” you whispered, pushing a strand of hair off of his nose and smiling when he scrunched it up in distaste at the ticklish touch. “Just wish I hadn’t missed his whole life.”

Jody looked at you in the mirror, smiling wistfully. “You’re here for it now. That’s what’s important.”

You nodded again, wishing you could draw comfort from that.

Neither of you spoke again and by the time Jody drew the car onto a side road, up to what looked like a factory in the middle of the woods, your eyes were almost closed. You sat up when the engine stopped rumbling, wiping at your eyes to try and clear the blurriness. 

Sam opened the door to the back of the station wagon, smiling fondly when his eyes fell on the sleeping boy. Silently, he bent down, unclipped Thomas’ seatbelt and scooping the child from the seat. Dean was already behind him and in a move they must have practiced a thousand times, Sam handed the boy off to his brother smoothly. The elder Winchester disappeared and Sam held his hand out to you.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, slipping your smaller palm into his, allowing him to assist you from the backseat. “Just tired.”

Sam smiled, pushing the car door shit as Jody climbed out. “You got a guest couch?” the sheriff asked.

“We got a guest  _ room _ ,” Sam replied with a smile.

“Even better,” Jody grinned back, grabbing her bag from the trunk of her car. You looked down, still clinging to Sam’s hand. “Boy, get your Omega inside before she freezes her ass off.”

Sam blinked like he’d forgotten you were there, bestowing a gentle smile on you. His fingers squeezed into your palm lightly and he tugged you towards the imposing building. “Come on. We’ll find you a room.” You nodded, following him as he led you into a concrete hallway. “I know this place looks pretty scary but it’s the safest place in the world,” he assured you, keeping his pace slow. Another nod was your only response - you were too busy taking in your surroundings. It was like something out of a war film, one of those old sixties ones where some kind of spy or superhero saved the world. You remembered watching them on Bobby’s crappy old tv set growing up.

Tears pricked your eyes and Sam stopped, instantly sensing your distress. He turned, cupping your face.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I fell asleep,” you whispered. “I fell asleep for ten years and this whole life happened, and for you… it’s been ten years.” You looked up, focusing on his eyes. “For me? It’s been two weeks and a good night’s sleep.” Sam’s expression was confused - how could he understand it? For you, there hadn’t been any time - you were the same person.

Life went on without you and you were walking into a future you didn’t belong in.

“Y/N, it’s gonna be okay, you’re awake and you’re fine and -”

You snatched your hands out of his, staring at him with anger. “I’m not fine!” you yelled, interrupting him and the shock of the sudden outburst forced him back a step or two. Mary appeared behind him, illuminated by the light. “This isn’t my life!”

Sam reached out to you but his hand was stopped by another. His eye’s met Mary’s and she shook her head, tugging him backward away from you. She pushed past, standing in front of you and you needed no further encouragement. Collapsing into her arms, you sobbed heavily, letting her guide you past Sam and into the large open room beyond the concrete staircase.

She didn’t stop until you could no longer hear the whirring of machinery and the lights were lower. You heard a door click shut and you lifted your head, looking the other woman in the eye.

“He’s not gonna understand,” she said softly, lightly touching your elbow to guide you towards the bed. You followed, sniffling pathetically but Mary didn’t say anything about it. She sat down, waiting for you to settle. “I know the feeling too well. The last thing I remember was checking on my baby son in 1983.”

“At least you knew you had a son,” you whispered but the statement didn’t contain any malice. Mary smiled softly, nodding.

“I did. I had two beautiful babies.” She sighed. “Now I have two grown men that are complete strangers… aside from the fact that I see John in both of them.” You stiffened at that, frightened to meet her eyes. Her fingers landed on yours. “I see him in you too.” The fright was replaced by shock and you looked up at her, unsure of what to say.

Mary patted your hand, before reaching over to the dresser, opening the drawer and pulling out a heavy book. You instantly recognized the battered leather and half-torn pages, and you draw back, worried about what you knew was in John Winchester’s journal.

“The boys told me most of it. But they didn’t…” Mary paused, clutching the book against her knees. “The John in here - the John you knew? That was not my John.” She looked up at you, the fear in her gaze too much for you to process. What did Mary Winchester have to be scared of with you? “Dean and Sam learned the truth a long time ago. But you don’t know anything. And I’m afraid because the things I did before I died?”

You shook your head. “The things you did? I don’t -”

“What happened to you was my fault. What happened to my boys was my fault. All three of you grew up without a mother because of me,” she whispered but the statement only left you more confused.

“I don’t understand,” you said slowly. “You’re not my Mom, Mary. My Mom was a hunter, she -”

“Your mom was Marianne Campbell.”

“Yeah?” It wasn’t new information and you shrugged.

Mary sighed. “My maiden name was Campbell.”

“It’s a common name,” you said, shaking your head. “Why are you telling me this? And why would anything that happened to me be  _ your _ fault? There’s only one person to blame for what happened and that’s  _ John _ and he’s not here.” It hurt you to say it; for you, the loss was still fresh. “Is this… I don’t understand why you’re telling me this. Why you’re even helping me. If you know everything, then you know -”

“I know,” she affirmed but there wasn’t anger or hatred in her voice.

“Then you know my Alphas aren’t just your sons,” you reminded her, trying not to think of whether they actually were your Alphas or not anymore. “They’re my brothers.”

“You’re trying to get me to react but I won’t,” Mary said, smiling slightly. “Packs were a little more common in the seventies.”

“Was incest?” you quipped bluntly and the older woman laughed.

“Actually…”

“Oh.” There was a comfortable silence between you and you realized you’d calmed down. The abject terror you’d felt in the stairway had ebbed away into a dull roar of uncertainty, and you managed a small smile. “So you think my mom was your cousin or something?”

Mary’s lips twitched. “Aunt.” Your eyes widened. “Similar age. My dad  _ hated _ that we were friends. But she was a hunter like me. Until I left to be with John.” Mary looked over at you fondly. “You look a lot like her. From what the boys tell me, you got all of her personality too.”

“So they’ve talked about me a lot?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah,” Mary nodded, “you and Thomas. The whole way back, both of them, telling me everything.” Your cheeks darkened at the thought of what the boys may have shared - they thought you were still in a coma. “They’re not gonna understand that it wasn’t so long for us.”

You shook your head thoughtfully, staring at a random spot on the wall. “I’ve missed so much… we both have.”

She took your hand again, squeezing with a reassuring smile. “Well, we’ll figure it out together. Us girls. Yeah?”


	30. Chapter 30

“And this is the kitchen,” Mary said, walking you into the large utility room. Sam stood at the counter, making coffee and he looked up at his mother’s voice. “Unusually clean for three guys.”

“Dean’s a closet clean freak,” you muttered, meeting Sam’s eyes. His dimples became more pronounced when he smiled and you returned it shakily, thankful one thing hadn’t changed. “Where is he?” you asked, watched Sam as he picked up two cups of coffee, handing one to Mary and one to you.

“He put Thomas to bed and I think he was sorting out the guest room for Jody,” Sam replied, turning back to pick up his own cup. “Did you pick a room?”

You nodded, glancing at Mary. “Yeah, the one at the end of the hall, next to Thomas’, is that okay?”

“Of course. He’ll like having you close.” He paused, almost as if he wanted to say something else but he remained silent.

Mary touched your arm softly. “I’m gonna turn in. Are you okay?” You nodded, offering the older woman a thankful smile that she returned. “Goodnight, Y/N. Goodnight, Sam, thanks for the coffee.”

“Night, mom,” Sam called and you waved briefly at her before looking over at Sam again. He sipped his coffee, both of you standing in awkward silence. “Did, er, did Mom show you the library?”

She had but it was an icebreaker, so you shook your head. Despite your earlier outburst and your continued confusion at the situation, you craved the company of your Alpha. Maybe it was the fact that he still carried your mark, even if you didn’t have his.

Sam smiled, gesturing to the door and you stepped out into the corridor first, waiting for him. He took the lead, walking half a step ahead. “We’ve got more books in this place than you could have dreamed. You were always a little more into books than Dean.”

“You’re hoping I’ll show your level of geekery?” you asked, laughing under your breath. “Sorry, Sam. I don’t think that’s actually possible.” His eyes sparkled at your humor and he slowed a little, his shoulder brushing against yours. You blushed, which was ridiculous at such an innocent touch, and Sam didn’t seem to notice.

“I know you’ll show a little more enthusiasm than Dean,” he retorted. “Although, Thomas… man, that kid loves to read.” The corridor opened up into the library and Sam stepped ahead, pulling out a chair for you. You sat down, waiting for him to take the seat opposite you. “He’s incredible.”

“So I noticed,” you whispered, willing down the tears. You were sick of crying over this - you couldn’t change it. “He’s a lot like you.” Sam didn’t say anything and he didn’t meet your eyes. “Does Dean know he’s yours?”

“Yeah,” Sam murmured, looking a little uncomfortable. “We just… don’t talk about it.” He shifted, clearing his throat and you noticed beads of sweat on his forehead. Lifting his coffee cup, he sipped it slowly. “I think it’s probably gonna be better if we get a good night’s sleep and talk tomorrow. I mean, there’s a lot for you to catch up on and -”

“Sam, are you okay?”

He nodded, smiling tightly and you didn’t believe him. “I’m fine,” he said, waving off your concern. “Just really tired. We drove a long way today and with everything…” There was a grimace that lasted less than a second but you saw it. His scent was off and he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“Hey,” Dean announced, catching your attention. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam replied, too quickly. Before you could call him out, he was standing. “I’m gonna get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow?” You nodded, trying not to feel disappointment when he walked off without so much as a kiss on the forehead. Staring at his retreating back, you didn’t even notice the scowl on Dean’s face.

Your eldest brother took the seat that Sam had vacated, keeping his eyes on you until you looked at him. The expression on his face took you by surprise. “What’s wrong?” In an instant, his face changed, crumpling into that little boy lost look you knew too well. “Dean?”

“You were…” he started, stopping like he’d forgotten what he wanted to say.

You could see it then. In the short time that you’d been reunited, you saw exactly what Mary saw. Two strangers. Two men you knew, who at the same time were completely different. With Sam, it was subtle, more like a maturity… he’d stepped into the role of pack Alpha without so much as taking a breath. He was more confident than he’d been as a younger man.

But Dean was broken. The light in his eyes was gone and the weight on his shoulders seemed to drag him down harder with each moment.

Sam didn’t seem to need you like he used to.

Dean needed you more.

“Dean?” you whispered again, reaching out across the table to him and he flinched - a reaction that cut you to the very core of your entire being. Taking your hand back, you settled it in your lap, trying not to cry at the perceived rejection.

“You didn’t wake up,” Dean murmured, his voice cracking. “I begged and begged and… you didn’t -”

“I didn’t have a choice,” you said slowly, keeping your words even. “You know that. The doctors said -”

“I needed you,” he interrupted, looking you directly in the eye and you couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. You got up from the chair and Dean reached out like he thought you were going to leave. The second you drew closer to him, dropping to your knees between his long legs, he burst into tears.

“What happened to you?” you asked softly, reaching your hands up to capture his face between them, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. “What happened to my bull-headed, funny big brother?” The words were a whisper on your lips now and Dean didn’t have a reply. He shrugged heavily, not fighting your hold when you pulled him down to crush him in a desperate embrace. “Dean…”

“Everything… everything happened,” he mumbled against your shoulder. “I wanted to talk to you, to hold you. And now you’re here, and I don’t wanna make things worse.” The damp of his tears was soaking into your shirt but you didn’t pull back. You breathed in his scent, finding it to be the same thick, molasses and gunpowder Dean had always been to you.

“You won’t,” you promised, unsure if you were telling the truth. “Dean, you gotta tell me. Everything.”

He lifted his head and you saw it then - the bare skin under his collar where his mark should have been. Your fingers grazed over it automatically and you searched his eyes for an answer. “I died,” Dean explained. “And when they brought me back, all of my scars were gone.” His fingers covered yours. “I’ve missed it so much; it felt like someone had taken away a part of me. I had to leave it behind every time I left you.”

You swallowed, feeling your chin quiver at the emotion in his voice. Reaching for your own collar, you pulled it down, showing him the smooth, unmarked skin. “They took mine too,” you whispered. “All of them.”

Dean choked on a sob, shaking his head as he pulled you close. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

The question haunted your lips but you didn’t dare ask it. You didn’t want to feel the pain if he said no or if he said he didn’t belong to you anymore. If he said you didn’t belong to him. The thought of it made you want to die, which was probably slightly overreacting, but at the same time, not reacting  _ enough _ .

Yeah, it had been like only minutes between falling asleep and waking up. You could lament that you’d missed ten years; you had to keep reminding yourself that Dean and Sam had to go on. Without you, without John, without Bobby. They’d lost just as much as you had.

“Dean,” you caught his attention. “I need to know.” He nodded, his fingers finding yours and holding on tightly. “I need to know  _ everything _ .”

*****

The woodland around the bunker seemed to stretch on forever. When the sun peeked over the horizon and painted the sky in reds and yellows, you ventured outside, careful to prop the door open so you didn’t lock yourself out. Everyone else was asleep but you’d had your fill of beds and pillows.

And you had a lot to think about.

Dean had told you everything. From Thomas being born to Sam’s death and his soul deal. He told you about the apocalypse, the prophecy of him and Sam being vessels, about Adam, John’s other illegitimate child. Throughout the entire story, you remained quiet, only asking questions for clarification.

By the time he was done, it was 3 am and he was struggling to stay awake.

It was clear he was stalling, especially when he walked you to your room and lingered a second too long. You wanted nothing more than to close the door on the rest of the world and give Dean what he needed but you knew you wouldn’t sleep and keeping him awake any longer would be unfair. He needed rest more than he needed you.

You waited ten minutes after his bedroom door shut, then crept along to Thomas’ room. It had become a habit while at Jody’s to watch him sleep, still amazed that this little human being was yours.

At the same time, it only served to remind you how much you’d missed out on.

Birds chirped happily as you walked around the bunker, following a small footpath that had been worn down by feet over the years. The trees were tall, thick oaks that had obviously been there for centuries, spreading ivy down their trunks to carpet the forest floor with luscious green. It was quiet and beautiful, and it felt  _ safe _ .

A squirrel darted across the path, scarpering up a Tree Of Heaven and the small trunk swayed under its weight. It stopped, looking directly at you before leaping into a neighboring white oak and disappearing into the foliage. You smiled, continuing on your path avoiding tree roots that stuck out of the ground and created a wooden labyrinth on the ground.

The sound of trickling water caught your attention and you turned, ducking when a wood warbler flew over your head, chirping noisily. It joined another warbler on a branch ahead, attempting to steal a worm from it. You kept going, following the birds as they flew off quarreling, landing on the other side of a small stream.

It was only a few feet wide, gently running back in the direction of the bunker. The water was clear, with a few small fish swimming against the current and you stopped, mesmerized by the sight of it. More birds landed on the other bank and when you looked up, you caught sight of something in the bushes.

Your instincts were on high alert and you felt into a low crouch, scanning the foliage around you. On the opposite side of the stream, a large privet bush rustled and two curious eyes peeked at you from between the green leaves. 

A doe.

The deer was cautious and stepped out into plain view with both eyes on you. You lowered yourself to the ground, crossing your legs and relaxing, trying to appear non-threatening. She took a few tiny steps forward, ears twitching as she listened for danger.

Moments ticked by and the doe slowly decided that you were not a threat. She trotted down to the stream, lowering her head to drink, keeping a wary eye the entire time. When she was finished, the doe turned her attention to a small patch of grass, lifting her head briefly to click in the direction of the privet bush.

Two tiny fawns emerged, scampering down towards their mother as she ate. You leaned forward, riveted by the scene, unsure if you’d ever seen anything so amazing.

“Y/N Winchester,” a voice said behind you and you jumped, turning to look at the intruder. The deer didn’t spook but the doe raised her head to check her surroundings. You narrowed your eyes as you took in the tall, dark-haired man in the trenchcoat and the serious look on his face.

“Do I know you?” you asked, climbing to your feet. Behind you, the doe decided she wasn’t happy with the situation and ushered her babies back into the thicket.

The man smiled but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. His expression was more like someone acting out a scene; like smiling was what he was supposed to do. “My name is Castiel.”

You blinked in understanding - Dean had told you everything about the angel that had raised him from hell. “You’re the angel,” you stated and he nodded. “Nice to meet you, I guess. Dean said you’re family, so…” You shrugged, trailing off in your uncertainty of what to say. Before, it had just been you, your brothers, John and Bobby. Now, Dean and Sam had  _ friends _ . Lots of friends. People they considered family.

And they’d lost more.

“I like to think so,” Castiel replied. “You couldn’t sleep?”

You glanced at the sky, still tinged with red, before looking back at him and shaking your head. “No. I… I feel like I slept enough? If that makes sense?”

Castiel chuckled. “It does.” He looked around, smiling genuinely this time, and you decided that maybe you liked the angel. “This is such a quiet place. Sam comes out here sometimes. Thomas too.”

“I bet,” you murmured. “Doubt you see Dean out here - too much nature.”

“That is very true,” the angel acknowledged. “Can I walk you back in? Sam will probably be up soon.” You hesitated, looking back down the tree-lined path. “Or I can leave you alone if you wish?”

“No, it’s okay,” you exhaled, offering him a thin smile. “I should probably go back in. They might send a search party. Or is that you?”

He shook his head. “I arrived a few moments ago and noticed the door was open. Dean and Sam always lock it.”

“I didn’t know where the key was,” you admitted. “I didn’t intend on going far.” Shame made your cheeks darken. “I’ll ask Sam where the key is for next time.” Castiel nodded, turning back towards the path. With one more glance at the other side of the stream, you followed him, heading back to the bunker.


	31. Chapter 31

Mary was already up when you entered the kitchen with Castiel, and not two seconds after she’d poured you a cup of coffee, Sam wandered in. His hair was sticking up all over and you couldn’t help but smile at his disheveled appearance.

You were definitely digging the long hair.

“So,” Mary started, sliding into the seat opposite as your eyes tracked Sam’s movements around the kitchen. “I know you don’t have a whole bunch of stuff, so I was thinking we could head out and get you some things?” You turned your head, nodding at her. 

“That’s a good idea,” Sam chipped in, yawning as he poured himself an orange juice. “We should get you a phone too.”

Mary shook her head and cleared her throat. “Uh-uh, Sam. Girls trip.” You blinked at her and Sam frowned, looking put out by the mere suggestion. “Y/N needs things. Girls things.  _ Omega _ things,” she emphasized. Sam’s cheeks darkened. “So, we’re going to take one of the cars in the garage and go shopping.”

Sam nodded slowly, glancing at you. “O-kay,” he drawled, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, we could use some things too. Thomas needs new sneakers -”

“Jody bought him some last week,” you said, sipping your coffee. “They’re Batman and they light up.” Sam made a small “o” with his lips, sitting back. “Actually, I could use the girl time. Jody didn’t really have a lot of free time. I wouldn’t mind going outside among civilization for a little while.”

“What about…” Sam started, then thought better of it, his shoulders slouching.

Mary smiled, patting his hand on the table. “You’re worried about letting her out of your sight. I know. She’ll be safe with me, Sam.” He nodded, looking down at his coffee. “You just let me know what you need.”

“Okay,” he acquiesced. A door slammed somewhere down the hall, and footsteps grew louder as they ran along the corridor. Thomas appeared a second later, dressed in Captain America pajamas. “Morning, Thomas.”

“Morning, Dad!” the kid yelled, forgetting his indoor voice. Sam held his hand up and Thomas high-fived him before slipping onto the bench next to you. “Good morning, Mom,” he greeted, wrapping his arms around your waist. You returned the embrace, kissing the top of his head, still completely overwhelmed by the depth of your feelings towards the child. 

Sam watched with shining eyes, his mouth twitching up in a half-smile. After a few seconds, he shook himself free of his stupor, standing up. “What’s for breakfast, champ?”

“Peanut butter. On toast,” Thomas replied, breaking out of your hold. “Can I have some coffee?”

“Oh, hell no,” Sam retorted, pulling the bread from the breadbin. “You’re bouncy enough.”

“Good morning, Thomas,” Castiel said, leaning forward.

“Mornin’ Cas,” the boy grinned, turning his eyes to Mary. “And good morning, Nana Mary.”

“Oh, well, I suppose that doesn’t make me sound too old,” Mary chuckled, prompting you to smile.

Breakfast continued with normal chatter. Thomas filled you in on his plans for the day, which mostly included finishing his homework so he didn’t have to worry about it for the rest of the summer break. He also intended on giving you the big guided tour of the bunker - it was way better than when anyone else did it, and you didn’t have the heart to say you already knew where everything was.

Once Thomas was done with his breakfast and sent off to get dressed, the conversation turned to darker matters. Dean joined you all, taking a seat at the head of the table opposite Sam.

“Things are quiet,” Castiel informed everyone. “We have no leads on Lucifer so far.”

“Having fun slumming with Crowley?” Dean joked and you looked up. You knew who Crowley was and that Lucifer was on the loose again - you didn’t know Castiel was working with him.

“No worse than when you did it,” Cas retorted and Sam choked on his cornflakes. “Either way, we have no leads.”

“That’s probably for the best right now,” Mary mumbled, standing to begin clearing the dishes from the table. “Y/N and I are going out today,” she told Dean, who raised an eyebrow and glanced first to you and then to Sam. 

“They are?” he asked Sam before looking at you again. “You are?”

“Free country isn’t it? I was under the impression that hadn’t changed,” you snapped, irritated that he was acting like you needed permission to go anywhere.

“Well, yeah, I guess,” Dean shrugged as Sam sighed and started to help his mom. “I just didn’t know if it was such a good idea if you’re… you know you’re not…” You narrowed your eyes and folded your arms across your chest, waiting for the elder Winchester brother to dig a deeper hole. “I mean, Mom came back Beta but you’re… you’re still Omega, and you’re not technically claimed…”

“Basically, he’s implying that we can’t look after ourselves,” Mary interjected, making Dean sink into his seat like a scolded child. “He thinks we need to be canoodled and wrapped in cotton wool.”

“That’s not -”

“Yeah, it was,” you sighed, getting to your feet. “I thought we covered this last night.”

“Covered... wait, what?” Sam froze on the spot, looking between you and Dean and you realized where his mind had immediately gone. “Did you -”

“Not a conversation I want to be part of,” Mary quickly decided. “Give me an hour and meet in me in the garage,” she instructed you, disappearing seconds later. Castiel looked between the two Alpha brothers, making a similar decision to vacate, although he didn’t bother telling anyone.

“We didn’t, not that it matters,” Dean growled back. “Even if we did, she’s my Omega too, Sam. Things haven’t changed.”

“Except they have. She’s unclaimed right now, how did you phrase it - re-hymenated?”

The word was ridiculous and you barked a short laugh, clapping a hand over your mouth at your inappropriate outburst. Neither brother looked at you; they were staring each other down. Sam was getting more worked up by the second, puffing his chest out and baring his teeth.

“Nope,” you announced, turning away.

It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on both of them. They looked at you as you walked out, completely done with the macho bullshit. “Y/N,” Sam called and as expected, you found yourself followed to your bedroom. You waited for them both to come in, knowing it needed to be a private conversation.

“Shut the door,” you ordered and Dean complied, both of them standing in your newly claimed room like they were in the principal’s office. “I’m not doing this. Not again. I had it with John. I either belong to both of you equally or neither of you. Like you said -” You sucked in a breath, surprised how much the words hurt to think, let alone say. “I’m not claimed. There’s nothing to stop me getting a fresh start.”

Each brother had a similar expression of fear and you couldn’t help the twinge of satisfaction that curled around your heart. 

“I’m…” You took a breath, closing your eyes to try and ground yourself for a second before you started speaking again. “I’m still processing. I’ve got ten years to catch up on. I know Dean told me most of it last night but -”

“What?” Sam’s head snapped towards his brother. “Everything?”

“Everything,” Dean confirmed nonchalantly. “We promised, Sam. No more lies.”

“That was ten years ago,” Sam hissed and your entire demeanor shifted.

“What does it matter if it was ten years ago?” Dean asked, glaring at his younger brother. “What, we should lie to her now? Why? She’s not a fragile little girl, Sam. She never was.”

“And I’m still in the room,” you pointed out, your irritation growing as they discussed you like you weren’t there. “You’re not gonna treat me like this.” You sucked in another breath, hating what you were going to say. “I’m not gonna let you treat me like John did.”

Two sets of eyes were on you now, watching you like a hawk. “We wouldn’t -” Sam started before frowning. “Y/N… what  _ did _ John do to you?”

You shuddered, a mixture of arousal and shame filtering through you. The gaping hole where John’s presence used to be was healing, faster than you’d expected, but the thought of the things he’d done to you and that you’d willingly done to him still lingered. You’d loved him, not in the way you should have, but it had been real and raw to you.

Despite knowing he was in the wrong, you couldn’t hate him for giving you at least a chance to find your pack.

Now you needed to hold onto it with everything you had.

“It doesn’t matter now,” you whispered. “It’s done. And I’m not…” you sighed, “I’m not going back to that. I have to move on. And I want that to be with my pack.” You met Sam’s eyes, feeling your heart thud in your chest. “I don’t care what happened when I was asleep. I wouldn’t expect you to become monks for ten years. You didn’t know I was ever gonna wake up.”

“Doesn’t stop us feeling like shit about it,” Dean replied, a sharp edge to his voice. “But Sam and I haven’t… we never took another Omega, Y/N. Betas got us through ruts, we still had that connection to you so we didn’t get sick.” He looked down at the floor. “I don’t expect you to forgive us -”

“But I do. I’m not an unreasonable bitch, Dean,” you said softly, smiling at him. His posture relaxed and he nodded. “I just don’t want any more lies. What happened in the past… it’s the past and I can’t change it.” Your gaze settled on Sam, who stared at you with an indistinguishable expression on his face. “Sam?”

He remained still for a moment, before moving forward, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his body, nuzzling his face into your throat. “No more lies,” he promised again, clinging to you tightly. You returned the embrace, inhaling his scent.

Dean watched, that dark cloud on his face again. When your eyes met his, you realized what was causing his reaction, and you pulled back from Sam, looking up at him. “Sam… I’m gonna stay with Dean tonight,” you whispered.

“I know,” Sam replied, rubbing his nose against yours. “He needs you more.” He dropped his head again, mouthing at your pulse point for a few seconds. “But I’m gonna put my mark back here, little sister. Gonna make sure you remember who you belong to.”

A shiver journeyed down your spine and you nodded, stepping out of his hold. Pushing past him, you moved to Dean, placing one hand on your oldest brother’s cheek. “I’m gonna go out with your mom, okay? And when I come home tonight… we can talk. Just you and me.”

Dean nodded, leaning in as you placed one hand on his chest and pushed up onto tiptoes to kiss him softly. He moaned under his breath, scowling when there was a knock at the door and Jody’s voice followed. “Guys? Sorry to interrupt, but I gotta head back to Sioux Falls.”

“Wish we could just take you right now,” Dean growled before he stepped around you. You shivered at the thought, half-tempted to throw your entire day away for the thought of both of your Alphas  _ but _ there were other people to consider now.

You opened the door, forcing a smile on your face and Jody grinned back. “Hey, sorry, Y/N, but I gotta shoot.”

“Thanks, Jody,” Sam said suddenly, appearing directly behind you. “For looking after Thomas and…, well, everything else.”

“Any time, Sam,” the sheriff replied, reaching out to take your hand. “You need  _ anything _ , you call.” You nodded gratefully and the older woman pulled away, turning her stern gaze on Sam and Dean. “And you boys take care of her, you got that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean confirmed and Sam smiled, nodding at her. Jody seemed satisfied with that and pulled away, giving you one last nod before disappearing. Sam’s hand was on your shoulder and you turned your head to look at him.

“We’ll see you later, okay?” Dean moved past the both of you, purposefully brushing his fingers against the back of yours. The light touch made your belly tighten and you bit your bottom lip for a second. Sam smiled, leaning down to kiss you softly.

“You said you needed some things,” you remembered, frowning at him. “I can -”

“We’ll take care of it,” Sam insisted, moving you around so he could walk into the hallway. “Don’t worry. Have fun.” You nodded, watching both men retreat with concern in your eyes. 

Something still didn’t feel right. But you had no clue what it was.


	32. Chapter 32

“So you and mom are really hitting it off, huh?” 

“Is that weird?” you asked, scrunching up your nose in uncertainty. “I mean, she’s a Beta who used to be an Omega, and I’m an Omega that used to be Alpha. Why did God’s sister decide to do that anyway?”

Dean shrugged, tossing the lid of his beer in the trashcan before throwing himself onto the bed next to you. You were folding and sorting the new clothes you’d bought today - Sam, Dean,  _ and _ Thomas hadn’t known what to do with the number of purchases you brought home.

Of course, it helped you’d bought them a few treats.

“I mean, she said she was giving me what I needed because I gave her what she needed.” He sipped his beer thoughtfully. “I guess it was family. Chuck was her family. Mom and you are mine.”

You smiled, picking up the beer he’d left on the nightstand for you and swigging it before setting it back down. “I still don’t think I have enough shoes.”

“You’ve got a shoe problem,” Dean muttered, giving you a sideways glance. “I mean, how many pairs of sneakers does one person need?” You shrugged, picking up the newest pair of high top Converse that had caught your eye in the store. It was odd, sometimes, trying to remember you were thirty now.

Recognizing ten years difference in the mirror still kept catching upon you.

“But why bring your mom back Beta?” Dean glanced at you. “Do you think it was because… I mean, John was her -”

Dean sighed, leaning over to place his bottle on the nightstand, his face tight with renewed anger at his father. “Put all this away,” he instructed, waving his arm over all your purchases. “You need to relax and stop overthinking. I don’t know why Mom came back different. She’s… not what I remember.” He shifted, shedding his clothes until he was only in his boxer shorts.

“You probably can’t place her scent,” you murmured, pushing items back into bags. You’d go through everything tomorrow. “It’s changed. She said the same thing about you and Sam.” Dean didn’t say anything as you climbed into the bed beside him. “You sure you wanna be in my room?”

“I’m sure,” he said, sliding down to lay on his side, tugging you down to face him. “Smells like you in here.”

“That’s because I’m in here. This hasn’t even been my room for an entire day,” you pointed out and he shrugged, a lazy smile on his face as he drew closer. “And my room at Falls Rest must have smelled like me.”

“It was different,” he muttered. “Like you were there but you weren’t.” His hand ran up the length of your arm. “Now you’re here and I don’t wanna forget what you smell like again.” His nose was so close to yours and you sucked in a breath, pressing closer to nuzzle your cheek to his.

“What you told me, last night?” you whispered, closing your eyes as he kissed along your jaw. “I’m not angry at John. For choosing you.”

Dean paused, pulling back to look at you. “You might not be but I am.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I ever let go of how angry I was at him. I mean, I think about it now and it happened, yeah, can’t change it.” He sighed. “But I never forgave Dad for taking you away from us. Even before the accident.”

You smiled, cupping his cheek and drawing him into a deep kiss. “I would have chosen you too, Dean.”

There was a jealous light in his eyes as he regarded you. “Would you choose me over Sam?” he asked, his throat tightening as he spoke. Your chest felt like someone had poured concrete into your lungs. “Would… would…”

“You can’t ask me that,” you replied, keeping your voice low, trying not to burst into tears. “I’d put the gun in my own mouth before I had to choose between either of you. You’re my pack. I… I couldn’t…” The tears were beginning to leak out of your eyes and Dean shushed you, wiping them away with his thumbs.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just… damn, Y/N, I lost you once.  _ We  _ lost you.” He sighed, kissing you softly. “Even when I lost myself, I needed you.” You kissed him back, trying to dispel the bad memories surrounding both of you. The past was in the past and you needed to forget the things that had happened before.

Forgiving would come later.

Dean’s lips traveled down your jaw, your throat, not stopping until he reached the soft swell of your breasts over the tank top. You arched into his touch, demanding more, threading your fingers through his hair as he moved further down to your plain cotton panties. His teeth tugged at the material until he grew impatient and tore the underwear off you.

“Hey!” you protested, giggling at the same time.

“You bought new ones!” he defended and you laughed harder.

“That doesn’t mean you can destroy them.”

Dean’s eyebrows did a little wiggle as he leered. “Maybe you should just stop wearing panties altogether,” he suggested, not giving you a second to think before plunging his tongue into your tight cunt. You cried out, bucking on the bed, held down by Dean’s arms as he feasted on you. “God, I forgot how good you taste, sweetheart,” he purred, returning to his task.

For a moment, lost in the sensation, you could almost convince yourself that you were back home, in your house. It was a lazy Sunday morning with your pack, your family…

Your orgasm slammed into you and you sobbed, clutching at Dean’s short hair desperately. He slowed his movements, looking up at you as your body shuddered with the force of your climax and stopped altogether when he saw the fresh tears sliding down your cheeks.

In a flash, he was over you, shielding your body with his own. His hard cock was against your thigh through the material of his underwear. “Ssh,” he whispered, cupping your face in his hands and using his elbows to hold his weight off of you. “Sweetheart…”

“Dean…” You lifted your head, kissing him, wet and sloppy and more tongue than was probably necessary but it was enough to convey to Dean your urgency. Right at that moment, you needed him more than ever.

“I got you, baby girl,” he murmured, kissing along your jaw. You reached down, pushing at the elastic of his boxer shorts as he tried to shove your tank over your head, while neither of you wanted to stop touching the other. Some fumbling and groaning later, your breasts were bared to his greedy eyes and his cock was nudging at your soaked entrance. “Missed you so much,” Dean whispered, the emotion clouding his vision making his voice tight.

He sank into you slowly, opening you up and you cried out, clutching at him. Dean froze, terrified he’d hurt you but you lifted your legs and dug your heels into the flesh of his ass, urging him forward. A wrecked groan spilled from his lips as he rocked his pelvis against yours, filling you over and over.

“Need your knot,” you begged quietly, clinging to him, desperate to have him as close to you as possible. Dean gasped, nuzzling against your throat, the thick ring of muscle at the base of his shaft already bulging. You were on edge, about to lose all control, when you felt the sting of his teeth against your throat. His knot popped, filling you entirely for a second before he was pumping load after load of cum into your body.

You screamed once, Dean pressed his teeth in harder and you felt blood trickle down your shoulder to stain the sheets underneath you. He was still cumming and you fell silent, an inexplicable urge rushing through your veins and you acted before you thought.

His blood tasted like copper pennies and he whined against your throat, covering the wound he’d caused with his tongue. Your body shuddered through the last of your climax and you fell back, releasing his neck, lips stained with his blood. 

Dean tucked himself tightly around your body, taking deep rib-shaking breaths as he remained locked inside you. You could feel the warmth of his cum in your belly, the swell of his cock buried inside you. When his body relaxed enough for him to slip free, you spent a moment lamenting his departure until he laid behind you, scooping you into his arms.

“I love you,” he whispered, echoing the words he’d said so often when you couldn’t hear. “I need you to know that. Whatever happened while you were sleeping,” he took a breath, his entire body shaking with emotion, “you were always there. I never stopped loving you.”

You didn’t know what to say and the silence felt more comfortable than it should have - maybe Dean had just needed to say it, get it off his chest.

“Get some sleep,” he added, kissing the back of your neck. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

*****

A strange scent woke you and when you opened your eyes, it took a second to realize that you were alone. The bedroom door was open and as you sat up, you heard a loud crash from the direction of the kitchen and a feminine screech.

“Sam!”

Bolting from the bed, you snatched up the Men Of Letters robe you’d commandeered, throwing it around your body before sprinting from the bedroom to the kitchen. Mary backed out into the hallway as you approached, panic on her face. “What’s going on?” you shrieked.

“I don’t know!” Mary replied, shaking her head. “Dean was making coffee and then Sam came in and -” She shrugged, not knowing what to say to describe it. You peered around the corner, suddenly realizing what the scent filling the bunker was.

Sam was in rut.

“Shit,” you murmured, turning back to Mary. “Can you go stay with Thomas? Maybe take him out for breakfast? This is… it’s best if he isn’t around here.”

Mary nodded, reaching out to touch your arm. “Be careful.” You gave her a wistful smile before turning back to the kitchen. Sam had Dean pinned up against the far wall, his fingers around his brother’s throat.

“Sam!” you shouted, catching his attention and he dropped Dean instantly, moving to you with long strides. You barely had a second to react before he was backing you against the counter, fingers tearing at your robe. “Sam, calm down!”

Dean staggered to his feet, snarling but you reached out, flattening your palm to stop him in his tracks. He froze on the spot, the glare in his eyes still focused on Sam. Reaching up, you placed your hands on Sam’s chest, pushing him back slightly.

“Calm down,” you whispered, just as he got the robe off of your shoulder, baring your breasts and the red, raised bite mark Dean had left there the night before. Sam’s eyes flashed with an eerie glow and he tore the robe completely from your body, making you shriek. “Sam!”

The older Alpha growled, issuing a challenge and you shook your head, terrified they’d kill each other. Sam was in rut and Dean was freshly mated. Everything was different - it didn’t seem like Sam was content to share anymore.

“Sam,” you sobbed, reaching out to grab his shirt when he turned towards Dean. “Sam, don’t please!”

“Mine,” he snarled, pushing you back behind him but you were persistent. Both men were coiled tight, ready to explode but you forced yourself between them.

“No!” The single word came out high-pitched and forceful and you could feel that warmth in your chest for the first time since waking up. “This is  _ not _ how this works,” you added, breathing heavily, not looking at either of them. “I won’t choose between you.”

Dean sucked in a breath, relaxing his posture a little and straightening. But Sam wasn’t calming down. His fingers twitched and he scented the air, fresh snarls bursting from his lips. “Mine,” he repeated.

You didn’t dare move your head. Moving towards either one of them could set the whole keg ablaze and right now, you needed Dean to back off. “He hasn’t had a rut,” Dean muttered under his breath, controlling his emotions now you’d doused the fire. “Not since… fuck, it’s been years. I don’t even remember.”

The implication of what he was saying dawned and you turned your head towards Sam. “Dean, if he hasn’t had a rut… this could kill him.”

“He’s gonna kill me if I come near you,” Dean warned. “He needs you. He needs me gone.”

You shook your head. “No -”

“Y/N, if it comes down to having you as my Omega or saving Sam?” he sighed heavily, shaking his head. “I’d pick Sam.”

The pain of his insistence echoed in your chest, reminding you of just how much you’d missed and how much they’d been through together. Not for the first time, you questioned your place in the pack. “I know,” you admitted gently.

Sam was practically vibrating, nothing in his eyes except lust and possessiveness. His gaze darted between you and Dean, leaving the three of you in a stalemate that you had to break.

“Sam,” you whispered, reaching out a hand to him. “You in there?” He didn’t seem to acknowledge the question. “Dean, he’s almost feral.” Sam’s body jerked forward as you addressed the other Alpha, indicating his dislike for the action. “He might hurt me…”

“I know what he needs,” Dean said, suddenly moving past you. Sam’s snarls of displeasure increased the closer he got.

“What are you doing?” you hissed but Dean waved you off, grabbing the collar of his tee and showing Sam the neat mark you’d left on his throat. The younger Winchester sniffed, eyes glued to your mark, his own hands stroking the point on his throat where you knew your mark remained on him.

“I’m not sure what kind of effect not having a rut has. I mean, a rut that goes unsated can cause damage over time,” Dean murmured and you watched Sam visibly calm. “Either way, I’m gonna leave.”

“Dean, we’re -” you started, wanting him to stay.

“I’ll be in my room, okay?” he flashed you a smile, keeping it brief. “He needs you right now.”

“You need me too,” you pointed out but Dean was already leaving.

“And I got you,” he called back. You heard the bedroom door shut somewhere down the hall and returned your attention to Sam, approaching him slowly. He was sweating, feverish and pale, his eyes rimmed with red. Had he held back all night because he knew you were with Dean? Maybe the scent, combined with rut and tiredness had sent him into this state.

“Sam,” you whispered again, touching his shoulder. “Need you to listen to me, Alpha.” The glow in his eyes dimmed and he clutched at you, pulling you flush against his body. “Not here, Sam,” you urged, trying to dodge his amorous kisses. “Sam -”

His name ended with a cry of surprise when Sam picked you up, hoisting you over his shoulder. You hung limply as he marched to his room, slamming the door before dropping you onto the bed with a grunt. Seconds later, he covered your body with his, dragging his teeth across any skin he could reach.

“Sam, I haven’t showered,” you protested but Sam didn’t seem to care, settling himself between your thighs and licking along your slit, making you twitch with anticipation. He feasted on you, his hands bruising your thighs as he fucked you with his tongue.

He didn’t stop when you screamed or when you hit the bed with your fists. His growls vibrated against your core and when he did stop, you were a dripping sobbing mess. But Sam wasn’t satisfied. Kneeling up, he turned you on your belly, positioning you with your ass in the air. A fleeting touch of his fingers to confirm you were wet for him, and he lined his cock up with your hole, slamming into you unceremoniously.

You cried his name, sobbing with need as the Alpha fucked into you, each slap of his thighs against the flesh of your ass echoing over your whimpers. Tears streaked your cheeks, bruises following the path of Sam’s touch on your skin. He wasn’t chasing your release, only his own.

The moment came quickly and Sam forced his knot deep into your abused cunt, filling you to overflowing with cum. You slumped underneath him, gasping for air but you didn’t get much before Sam’s weight was on top of you, crushing you into the covers.

His teeth sank into your neck and you passed out.


	33. Chapter 33

Warmth surrounded you.

Slowly, you cracked your eyelids open, hissing as your neck twinged with an ache you couldn’t quite identify and you blinked rapidly, trying to clear the dry feeling in your eyes. Your lips were cracked and almost stuck together as you parted them, shuddering as you felt a warm hand resting just under the swell of your belly.

You expected to see just the other side of the empty bed when you focused on your fuzzy surroundings but you were met with Dean’s strong features, his eyes closed and lashes dark against his freckled cheeks. There was a fresh bruise on his left cheekbone and his lip was split - injuries you didn’t recall him having before.

“Dean,” you croaked, your throat rough with lack of moisture but the squeak was enough to rouse Dean from his slumber and drowsy green orbs met yours. A spike of fear shot through your chest and your senses all roused in one. Sam’s arm was around your waist, his nude body pressed close against yours. “Dean, if Sam -”

Dean groaned as he shook his head. “It’s okay. We figured it out.”

You frowned, not sure what he meant until your eyes dropped down and saw the bite mark on his neck. It was fresh, still seeping blood and…

It wasn’t your mark.

“Dean, what happened?” you asked, your tone filled with seriousness. “That’s…” Dean’s gaze locked with yours as he moved closer, cupping your face with his hand. 

“Same as yours, kid,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose into yours, his shoulders lifting in a lazy shrug. “He needed it.”

“He bit you?” you whispered, pulling back to cup his face between your hands. “He  _ marked _ you?”

Dean’s nose crinkled up into a scowl. “He  _ pinned _ me and marked me but none of that… look, he’s  _ the _ Alpha, okay? And I don’t want this getting out but… Sam’s bigger than me.” You rolled your eyes at his childishness, anticipating his next words. “I’ll accept him as Pack Alpha but hell if I’m not still an Alpha, sweetheart. Besides… he’s my brother and that’s gross.”

“I’m your sister,” you reminded him and he tisked at you.

“That’s different.”

“It’s really not,” Sam murmured, lifting his hand from your belly and resting it on Dean’s very bare hip. Dean jumped and slapped the fingers away, making Sam chuckle against your neck. “Good morning.”

“Good morning to you,” Dean snapped, “Asshole.”

Everything felt right and you let your eyes fall shut, smiling to yourself. “I’m home,” you whispered and both men’s attention was focused on you. “I’m really home.”

Dean forgot his previous indignation, leaning in to kiss you with a smile. “You really are,” he reassured you, keeping his face close to yours, close enough for his breath to be warm on your lips. “You’ve got no idea how much we missed you.” Sam’s cock was hard against the small of your back and you snuggled into him, groaning as you woke every bruise and bump of the last few days.

“I think I’ve got a little bit of an idea,” you quipped, looking down at the harsh black bruises spattered across your thighs and belly. Sam laughed under his breath, running his hand down the side of your body to cup your ass. “Sam…”

“Slow down,” the younger Alpha ordered, mouthing at your shoulder, his face twisted into a snarl. “We’re gonna take care of you. Don’t wanna rush this.” Sam paused, sighing against your skin. “Feel like all we’ve done is rush since we got you back.”

There was an aching note in his tone and you saw a knowing spark in Dean’s eyes as Sam’s fingers tightened on your hip. Something had happened that they weren’t telling you.

“No more lies,” you reminded them in a whisper, turning your back on Dean, facing Sam. His jaw was tense, his eyes rimmed with exhausted circles, and he avoided your gaze. “Sam… Alpha… please…” Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his softly. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

A shuddering breath passed his lips. “I will tell you,” Sam promised, leaning his brow into yours. “Just… not right now. We’re here and we’re together and everything is okay. We’re… we can figure the rest out later.” You were silent for a second, absorbing his words, weighing up the decision to force the truth from him. He finally locked eyes with you, his pleading gaze and the soft brush of his thumb over your hip finally persuaded you to drop it.

“Okay,” you whispered, seeking another kiss from his swollen lips. Pushing your worry from your mind, you reached up, clinging to his shoulders as Dean took the smooching as a green light to slid down your body. Sam kept kissing you as your eldest brother spread your legs, settling between them with his mouth centimeters from your sex.

“God, I missed your sweet little pussy, Y/N,” he muttered before dragging his tongue through your folds coaxing a little whimper as you broke away from Sam’s mouth. “Look how wet you are…” You shrieked when Dean’s mouth covered your cunt, his tongue seeking out your clit and applying just the right amount of stimulation to your wrung out body.

You choked on a cry, shuddering violently. “Oh -”

Sam’s teeth were on your throat, worrying at the mark he’d left on your skin. It was bruised in comparison to Dean’s and you knew Sam would be feeling guilty for his roughness later on. And you’d tell him just like always that he didn’t need to feel guilty.

“What was that?” Sam asked, his voice full of amusement as he rutted his cock against your ass. In any other moment, you’d slap him up the side of the head but you were too busy climaxing on Dean’s tongue to think of a smart ass reply.

“Need you,” Dean murmured, licking you once more from bottom to top before sliding back up the bed.

“You have me,” you breathed, whining when Sam lifted your leg, allowing the elder Alpha to line up with your soaked cunt and push straight in, bottoming out in seconds. You cried out, letting your weight fall on Sam as Dean rolled his hips to tease you. “Please,” the whimper almost stuck in your throat, “need you both. Please.”

Sam’s teeth dug into your neck, thrusting his hips against you. You couldn’t move, pinned between them, Dean’s cock buried deep inside you; it wasn’t enough.

“B-both of you,” you repeated, wriggling enough that Sam’s cock bumped against Dean’s where the latter was pressed between your walls. “Now…”

There was no discussing it. Sam moved, grunting as Dean forced himself to stay still. The constant sex had loosened you to a point, which made it easy for Sam to push two fingers into your slick cunt, alongside his brother’s cock. You cried out, impatient, clenching around both of them and Sam growled, biting your neck again.

“ _ Sam _ ”; this cry was plaintive and drawn out and Sam’s fingers were snatched from your body, replaced quickly with the head of his cock. You panted desperately, chin stretched up and a primal sound wrenching free from your lips as Sam pushed into you, not stopping until he was parallel with Dean, both of their thick cocks stretching your pussy to the edge of pain.

It felt incredible, being so full, having both of them at the same time. Your body was crying out for release, slick coating their lengths as you teetered on the precipice of a climax.

Dean’s head was on your shoulder, his lips caressing his mark as Sam did the same. You forced your eyes open, clutching at Dean’s arm and a contented purr rumbled through your chest. Everything had been off since you’d woken up but this…

Felt like you were actually here.

Sam nuzzled the spot below your ear and his cock twitched, prompting Dean to move. They fell into synchronization almost instantly, both of them thrusting in time, filling you over and over. You couldn’t make a sound, clinging to Dean as Sam kept your leg pinned around his waist. In any other situation, it wouldn’t be comfortable but nothing could overwhelm the intense pleasure from two thick Alpha cocks fucking you at the same time.

The control you had shattered entirely as Dean’s knot started to thicken and you came, screaming loudly for a split second before Dean’s hand was over your throat. Sam pulled out, Dean’s knot easily slipping into your body before it popped and he was cumming, filling your insides with hot Alpha cum. The younger of the two fisted his cock until his knot was pulsing in his hand and Sam growled when he came hot and thick over your thighs and cunt.

There was a loud ringing in your ears as you tried to come down from the high. Your eyes refused to open and every limb felt heavy and leaden. Time was a non-concept, even when you felt the bed dip under Sam’s weight as he removed himself. 

Dean stayed still, wrapping your legs around his waist, apparently not caring about the mess Sam had left behind. His mouth nuzzled over his mark and when the need to rest tugged insistently at your mind, you could have sworn you felt wet drips landing on your shoulder.

*****

You woke before either Winchester, sliding easily from between their bodies. Like they’d done since the start, both of them rolled to put their backs to the other. Even after twenty years, they still carried the habits they had as boys.

It was just past six a.m. and everyone was still asleep. Grabbing a thorough shower, you cleaned up and dressed for the day, finding Sam and Dean exactly where you let them. You fixed yourself some cereal and snagged a bottle of water from the refrigerator before picking up one of the spare bunker keys and slipping your boots on.

Outside, the morning was crisp and bright, the evidence of overnight rainfall still dripping from the leaves. You quickly headed down the path round the back of the pumping station that rested on top of the bunker, enjoying the slight breeze that accompanied you.

This time, there were no deer around but plenty of squirrels. You picked a spot by the stream and sat down, calming yourself. Something rustled beside you and you turned to find Castiel stood a few feet away.

“I did not mean to intrude,” he said but you smiled.

“It’s okay. Where did you go?”

Castiel grinned awkwardly. “Sam was approaching his rut. I didn’t want to anger him further with my presence.” He came closer, taking a seat a little further down the big log you’d chosen to perch on. “It seemed personal.” You shrugged, casting your eyes out over the stream.

“We never saw places like this growing up,” you said quietly, watching a bubble run a few meters downstream before popping. A tiny fish swam against the current, failing miserably as it swept him away. “I think, I remember when I was twelve, John took us to Zion National Park. Mostly, he wanted us somewhere occupied so he could hunt without worrying. But it was probably one of the most beautiful places I ever saw.”

“Why do you call him John?” Cas asked, tilting his head at you. “I’ve not heard you refer to him as your father -”

You shook your head, laughing mirthlessly. “He wasn’t… it was a complicated relationship. He lied to me. He… I know it came from love but it’s just as hard to forgive.”

“Without him, would you not be with Sam and Dean?” the angel questioned. “If not for John Winchester, wouldn’t you be an Alpha?”

A shrug lifted your shoulders briefly and you clasped your hands in your lap, sighing heavily and looking out through the trees. “I don’t know what would have happened.”

“Are you happy now?”

You laughed again, unsure how to even broach that subject. “I don’t know if that’s possible right now. I’m… I’m home. There’s a lot to catch up on, a lot to adjust to… but I’m, I’m getting there.” Castiel smiled, genuine affection on his face. “What?”

“You hold so little value in yourself, Y/N,” he commented. “Yet, in the few days they have had you back, I have never seen either brother so alive.” The observation stunned you into silence but Cas wasn’t finished. “I raised Dean from Hell, as I’m sure you know. I never told him but not  _ all _ of his soul went to Hell. The demons couldn’t have all of it. The Hounds couldn’t destroy him entirely. Because part of his soul has always been with you.”

You stared at him, unsure what to make of that. “But his marks -”

“Marks are superficial. A remnant of a time when mates needed to be marked. Your connection to them was never broken, nor their connection to you. It was just… dimmed.” Castiel smiled, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. “You were meant to be an Omega, Y/N and you were meant to be  _ their _ Omega.”

“I thought it was just the Pack Gene,” you mumbled. “That it’s just… but Thomas doesn’t feel so much like pack.”

Castiel nodded. “Thomas doesn’t carry the gene,” he said. “He’s Beta, like most humans tend to be.” His eyes dropped to your belly. “The child you carry is Beta too.”

Shock jerked your head up. “What?”

“It’s only recent,” he continued, like he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on you. “Maybe a week? Dean will be pleased.”

“Castiel, are you… am I pregnant? Did you just tell me I’m pregnant with Dean’s baby?” You stared at the angel as he nodded cheerfully and you felt like you were going to faint. “We didn’t use anything, oh god, shit, this is -”

“Have I upset you?” Castiel asked, his voice gruff and the smile on his face fading to a concerned frown. “I thought mothers liked to know and seeing as Thomas is Sam’s biologically, I thought -”

“No, it’s not…” You slammed your hand on the log beside you, disturbing a spider that promptly fled to find a new crack to hide in. “I’ve only been back a few weeks. I… I’ve barely been home half of that. I haven’t… I don’t know how to be a mom to Thomas, Cas! How am I supposed to suddenly do this too?” He stared at you, open-mouthed, possibly regretting bringing it up at all. “No, no, I gotta… don’t say anything. To anyone,” you warned, pointing a finger at him. “I don’t know what kills angels but I swear to god, I will hang you with your own intestines.”

Castiel’s nose wrinkled. “That was unnecessarily graphic. You could have just said please.”

“ _ Please _ ,” you growled out and he sighed dramatically.

“Fine. I will not say anything until you give me explicit permission to do so.”


	34. Chapter 34

_ The night before… _

Dean sat on his bed, knees drawn up to his chest, eyes wide open and his chin resting on his forearms. He knew, barely a few meters from him, that Sam was reclaiming his territory and Dean didn’t know where it left him.

Having Y/N back, having her warm and soft and there in his arms? Was better than any half-cocked fantasy of her being home. Her scent was even more intoxicating than he remembered and her touch more electrifying. He could still feel it now, lingering on his skin from the night before.

Sam had wanted to kill him.

The thought of having his Omega back only to have her kept from him was making his stomach churn painfully. He could feel her mark on his throat, where it was supposed to be, and he hoped that this was just Sam’s rut. Would he really give up his Omega to save his brother? Could he do that?

If Sam didn’t want to be part of his pack anymore… where did that leave Dean?

Everything was quiet. Mom and Thomas were asleep, having spent the day at the local wildlife park for one of his school projects. Dean had never thought he’d have his mom back in his life, so having her in Thomas’, seeing her get to know his son… was more than he could put into words.

He should have been thankful, grateful, happy with his life.

But he didn’t feel worthy of what he had.

Standing up from the bed, he moved to the door, telling himself to go to bed and stop torturing himself. Y/N had been with Sam for hours now and it was nearly sunrise. Dean wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to handle it if he actually  _ heard _ them having sex.

If he could deal with knowing he might never have her again.

His little brother’s bedroom was silent.

Dean pressed his ear against the door, holding his breath so he could hear more but all that happened was his blood thumped in his head and drowned everything out. His fingers curled around the doorknob and he told himself he’d just peek in, check they were okay…

The scent of her still made his mouth water. Mixed in with his and Sam’s, like it always had been, and the smell of his brother’s rut was fading.

Sam was awake.

A sharp, alert gaze met him as Sam lifted his head from his position behind Y/N’s sleeping form. Sam’s mark was on her throat, glaringly red opposite his, a thick trail of crusted dry blood leading down to her bare breasts and Dean remembered to breathe.

Sam growled in warning.

Dean didn’t retreat, holding up his hands, moving inside quickly and closing the door. Sam’s hands slipped from Y/N’s waist and she didn’t so much as stir when he got to his feet.

Naked.

“Dude,” Dean stepped back, putting his ass to the door. “You still in there?”

“What do you want?” Sam asked, fishing his boxer shorts from the floor and slipping them on. His voice was rough from lack of sleep or drink.

“Just wanted to check you hadn’t…”

“Wouldn’t hurt her,” Sam interrupted. “I’m… I’m fine. Sorry I punched you.”

Dean shook his head, laughing. “You punch like a girl anyway.” Sam sniffed at that. “Sorry, man. I’ll leave you to it, I just… I was worried. You suddenly go into rut after a decade and, well, you’re pretty, er, -”

“I’m pretty?” the younger man teased, raising an eyebrow. “Dean, I had no idea.”

“Shut up,” Dean scowled, his tone disgusted. “You know I wasn’t done.” Sam chuckled, approaching a little closer and Dean’s stomach churned as the distance closing between them. It was almost like his Alpha was… frightened?

No. His Alpha was submissive…

“Dean?” Sam asked, pulling his big brother from his concerns. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh?” Dean blinked. “Fine, I’m fine.” He forced a smile on his face, reaching for the door handle. “I should go, you know just -”

“You don’t have to,” Sam insisted, worry making the lines on his forehead more pronounced. “We used to sleep together, all three of us. I know she’d like you here with us.” He gestured back to the bed before noticing the hesitation on Dean’s face. “Dean… seriously, man, what’s wrong? Your poker face is shit.”

Dean swallowed, leaning his hand on the door, ready to bolt instead of confessing his emotions until Sam spoke again.

“We said we wouldn’t lie anymore,” Sam whispered softly.

“Don’t,” Dean growled, closing his eyes. “You’re lying to her right now, Sammy. You’re not telling her what happened with the Brits.” Sam looked away, guilt on his face and Dean opened his eyes again, fixing his brother with a glare. “And you’re not telling me what you need. Because I know it ain’t just her.”

“No,” Sam admitted. “It’s different now,” he continued, sighing heavily. “Before we were pack without needing anything else. Then she was gone but not gone and now, it feels like I’m taking her away from you because something inside me doesn’t like that…”

He went quiet and Dean frowned, tilting his head to the side. “Doesn’t like what?”

“That you’re carrying her mark and not mine.”

Dean reeled back hard enough to slam his skull against the door as Sam stood there, looking like Oliver asking his master for more. His entire face was painted in guilt and Dean scrambled for something,  _ anything _ , to respond to that wild statement.

“Sam, look, man, I love you,” he started, stumbling over the words. “You’re my brother, of course I love you but man, I’m not, I don’t… I’m not gay.” Sam burst out laughing and Dean took offense. “What?”

“I don’t wanna fuck you, Dean,” he chuckled, reaching out to clap a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “This isn’t about that. It’s about  _ pack _ .”

“Thomas doesn’t have a mark and he’s plenty pack.”

“That’s different.”

“I would hope so,” Dean grunted, narrowing his eyes. “So… you wanna bite me?”

Sam grinned. “You’ve asked me to before.”

“That was sarcasm,” Dean replied, his scowl returning. “I’m not gonna let you just chomp on my neck, dude.”

“What, you need foreplay?” Sam teased. Dean opened his mouth, ready to argue, but Sam was already gripping his arm and dragging him to the floor, placing him in a chokehold and Dean snarled, fighting back against the slighter larger man. “How’s this?”

“Get off,” Dean growled but Sam just held on tightly, wrapping his legs around his brother in a wrestling move they’d perfected over the years. The elder Alpha struggled hard and fruitlessly, feeling the ache in his middle-aged legs. “Fuck’s sake, Sam! I give, I give!”

He tapped his brother’s forearm around his throat and Sam released him for only a second before Dean felt sharp canines in his throat and he almost yelled in shock. Like his voice had been taken away, he went still and pliable in Sam’s hold until he let go and backed away, getting to his feet.

Dean rolled onto his back, panting for no reason, staring at the ceiling. Sam loomed over him a second later, offering his hand to help him up. Accepting it with a grumble, Dean wiped the blood from his neck as he got up and met Sam’s eyes.

“Now,” Sam stated, a little breathlessly. “Are you coming to bed?”

*****

Sometimes, just not thinking about a problem could help. It wasn’t like you could anything about any of the issues you had right at that moment, apart from one. Sam and Dean had been called away on a hunt, only an overnight stay, so you couldn’t dig out the secrets they were  _ both _ keeping from you. Being a Sunday, finding a doctor and looking into what Cas  _ believed _ \- you needed physical, tangible proof.

Normally, you’d find the nearest Walmart, but you had no clue where anything about the bunker was and you hadn’t driven in so long, you weren’t sure you remembered how. Plus, half the cars in the garage were in pieces because of Dean’s tinkering and you couldn’t find the keys.

That left Thomas.

If you were facing the prospect of a baby, then you needed to learn how to care for him first.

As it turned out, Thomas was a whip-smart nine-year-old with Sam’s intelligence and Dean’s savvy. On one hand, you were incredibly proud of the person your Alphas’ had raised him to be. But on the other hand, Thomas was nine, and  _ not _ a baby by any stretch of the imagination.

Still, you’d barely seen him since you’d come back home with them and you didn’t want him to think you weren’t interested. When you apologized to him for being absent, he showed that he was compassionate as well as everything else when he said he understood why and that was when you felt more nervous than ever.

What if this baby would be better off without you? Thomas was perfect. Despite the circumstances of his upbringing, of who he  _ was _ , and the world they lived in, this gangly little kid was more adjusted than most people you’d ever  _ met _ .

Not thinking definitely helped for a while.

Mary was on hand to drive all three of you into town and you found joy in junk food once again, using the credit card Dean had given you to buy Popeye’s, then heading to Thomas’ favorite arcade for a little while. He showed you all his favorite games and exhibited his skills, beating you half a dozen time. Mary managed to win once, pointing out she wasn’t so bad for an old girl.

“I used to hang out at an arcade when I was a kid. Me and your mom would cause all kinds of trouble,” she recalled, smiling as Thomas played a shoot-em-up solo, making the gun noises as he beat his high score all over again. You grinned, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning against the out-of-order PacMan behind you. 

“My mom liked arcades?” you asked and Mary nodded.

“She liked beating the guys and showing off,” Mary chuckled, shaking her head. “She was a perfect marksman at five-years-old.”

“What about my grandparents?” The question made Mary’s eyebrows raised high. “I suppose… your grandparents too, right?”

“Yeah,” the older woman mused. “I didn’t really know them well. They were hunters, all Campbells were.” A fond smile crossed her face. “My dad used to say we’d been,” she put on a funny deep voice, “huntin’ since the Mary Celeste. It’s in our blood.”

That dimmed the mood a little and you looked down at your hands. “Do you think it’s in his?” you asked quietly, gesturing to Thomas with a nod of your head. He shot a zombie between the eyes and crowed in triumph.

Mary sighed, watching her grandson. “I don’t know. He’s pretty much concentrated Winchester,” she joked.

You didn’t know where it came from, the urge to confide in her, but your lips were moving, the words pouring from your mouth before you could stop them. “I’m pregnant,” you blurted, “and the boys are keeping secrets from me.”

The look on Mary’s face was comical, or it would have been if the subject matter was different. At that moment, Thomas won his highest score yet and cheered loudly, distracting both of you.

“Nana Mary, look!”

She smiled at him, covering up her shock and fishing in her pocket for a few more quarters. “Bet you can’t do it again.” It was a dirty move and you both knew it but Thomas smiled wildly, accepting the challenge instantly. Mary’s eyes slid back to you as the young boy instantly returned to his game, sliding a coin into the machine. “How far along?”

“Castiel thinks about a week,” you murmured back, “I wanna see a doctor and make sure before I say anything to Dean or Sam.” Mary’s expression was undefinable as she stared at you. “Is that bad?”

“No,” she replied honestly. “It’s early. A lot of women keep it to themselves.” An affection smile moved across her lips. “I guess, this is the first time you’ve dealt with this, huh?”

You returned the fond expression, nodding and feeling your eyes sting with relieved tears. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” Mary nodded, “and we’ll stop by Walmart on the way back. Grab a couple of tests.” She paused, looking at you seriously. “It might be too early for a positive test though.”

“You’re not,” you searched for the right word, “angry?” Mary frowned. “I mean, I’ve only been back a little while and I wasn’t careful and I don’t know how to do this -”

“No one knows how to do this,” Mary laughed. “Not until you’ve done it.”

You pointed at Thomas. “They did that without me. They raised this amazing little person and… how can I live up to that?” Mary opened her mouth to interrupt but you stopped her. “I love Thomas. More than I thought I could love another human being. But what if I can’t feel that? What if it’s different this time?”

“Why would it be different?” No answer came to you and Mary smiled again. “You’re letting your fears lead you, Y/N. Just because you weren’t taking him to preschool and teaching him to ride a bike doesn’t mean you’re not his mother.”

It hit you then - Mary had little involvement in the way her boys turned out. They only had a memory of their mother, Dean more than Sam but still, only memories. “I - I didn’t think,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry, Mary, I didn’t -” You sighed, kissing your teeth with your tongue and avoiding her eyes. “I have no tact.”

“No one can blame you forgetting I came back from the dead.” She paused, looking puzzled. “I think I’d like to forget it, actually.”

“Yes!” Thomas yelled, making you both jump. “See, Nana? You lost the bet.”

“Wait, what were we betting for?” Mary asked in confusion and you smiled, gasping in realization.

“I think it was ice cream,” you announced and Thomas’ eyes lit up. He pumped his fist in the air and took off, you and Mary following close behind. “What about Sam and Dean?” you said, suddenly and Mary placed her hand on your forearm.

“Talk to them,” she insisted, drawing away to follow Thomas to the ice cream store next door to the arcade. “Ask them for the truth. And kick their asses when they lie.”

You laughed, feeling far better than you had before. Maybe not thinking about it wasn’t the key. It seemed that talking was.

*****

The beer bottle landed in front of Sam with a thud and he jumped upright, swiveling his head to look at you. “Y/N?” He frowned, glancing at the beer. “Everything okay?”

“Talk,” you ordered, sitting down opposite him. You leaned your hands on the library table, staring him down and Sam swallowed, shaking his head as he sat back, circling his fingers around the bottom of the beer bottle. “I’m waiting.”

“About what?”

You sighed, shaking your head, not breaking eye contact with him. “We said no more lies, Sam. And I don’t care if it was a thousand years ago. We don’t lie to each other.”

He avoided your stare, focusing on the bottle, his nervousness indicated by his thumbnail scraping at the label. “I don’t want you to hate me,” he admitted, still not looking at you. “I know… I know Dean told you a lot. I know he... He shouldn’t have told you so much.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not fair on you to know those things,” Sam cried, finally meeting your eyes. “You shouldn’t have to know what… what we did. The things we did. We weren’t faithful to you, Y/N. And we… we weren’t…” He pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. “ _ I _ wasn’t loyal to you.”

“And I told you I didn’t care,” you shrugged, not understanding why he wasn’t getting it. “I know that’s not everything, Sam.” There was a torment in his eyes that you couldn’t figure out, something you’d never seen before. He looked close to tears and when you saw a tiny drop of liquid catch on his eyelash, you knew that he was telling you out of a greater fear than you hating him.

You stood, rounding the table, pushing him back into his chair before slotting yourself between his thighs, slipping your arms around his shoulders. Sam gladly buried his face in your chest and you leaned your cheek on top of his ridiculously soft hair.

“Sam… I’m not gonna be disappointed, or angry, or hate you,” you whispered. “I just want to know the truth.”

Sam sighed, pulling back to look up at you. “Okay,” he murmured, “I’ll tell you everything.”


	35. Chapter 35

The book was heavy in your lap, filled with added pages. Sam was asleep, curled up into a convincingly small ball on your bed, one arm around your waist and the other buried underneath her. His face was swollen from tears and you knew his eyes would be bloodshot if they were open.

What he’d managed to tell you was hard on him and you’d had to fight to contain your rage at the people who had hurt him. Reading the journal to fill in the gaps from ten years was hard; seeing Sam’s misery on the pages was painful and you wished more than ever that you hadn’t missed so much.

But you saw the strength in him too. And Dean. The way they’d fought unbelievable enemies, keeping your son safe the entire time, saving people… and the punishments they’d survived. Hell, Purgatory, death itself over and over…

It just made you proud of the strong, moral men they were.

Sam snuffled in his sleep, rubbing his nose against your hip and you opened the book again, flicking the pages until you found the entry you wanted. Thomas’ fifth birthday, a photo with both his fathers’ stood behind him looking on with huge smiles as he blew out the candles on his cake. Sam had written a short entry underneath the photograph, about how they’d only just made it back in time for the party and seeing Thomas open the MicroMachines car track he’d wanted for ages was worth nearly getting arrested for speeding.

It was your favorite picture in the whole journal.

At the back, Sam’s last journal was from a few weeks previous, and it was short, detailing the fight with Amara and losing Dean. The pages were stained with liquid and you ran your fingers over the pages, stifling your own tears and rage at what both your boys had been through.

Sam was an Alpha. Toni had coerced him into a false reality, raped him in mind if not in body and you knew that feeling of helplessness. He’d known it too much.

The diary had hidden pages, ones that you easily found, being the only other one who knew Sam’s little intricacies. Only one other person knew him as well as you did but even he wouldn’t take the time to spot little notes and numbers, hints to hiding places.

His first letter was half burnt and scribbled out but it was easy to read the letter inside. The word  _ sorry _ over and over in thick scrawled ink, desperate pleas for forgiveness. You knew about when he had no soul. You knew he’d ditched Dean and Thomas for a whole year and had done god-knows-what in that time. Sam had admitted he didn’t remember much but he remembered enough.

Through his own research, scrawled in messy letters scattered through the journal, he analyzed and recounted everything he could grasp from the memories he had of hell. He’d been tortured and his recollections were graphic enough that you stopped reading, placing them into a pile to destroy. You’d ask Sam to do it with you, put his past to rest, along with the details of what he’d done when he wasn’t himself.

Sam felt his Alpha more than he let on. His scent was stronger than you remembered - maybe it was why he’d reacted so violently to Dean. What he remembered from the cage was all tangible; scents, sounds, tastes. Like the memoir of a beast, with no feeling to it. Of course, he felt it  _ now _ , but the way he described it was methodical, scientific like he’d been experimenting and keeping notes.

At 3 am, you were exhausted and Sam was still out cold, no doubt a cathartic effect of his unburdening. The door to his bedroom opened and Dean snuck in, wearing a pair of sweats and nothing else.

“Hey,” he whispered, leaving the door ajar and creeping over to the bed. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s been out for hours,” you replied, patting the bed beside you. Dean immediately crawled in, snuggling his head into your lap. “You wrote some of this,” you stated and he nodded.

“I tried. Sam was better at it,” he confessed. “I thought he’d stopped, to be honest.” A dry laugh left his lips. “I thought he’d given up hope we’d ever get you back.”

“It was a thin hope, to begin with,” you mused, closing the book. Sam stirred, flinging his arm across your belly and almost punching his brother in the face. “Sam,” you hissed, nudging him with your elbow. He cracked one eye open, pouting up at you. “Budge over, you big lump.”

He yawned and obeyed, shifting back a few inches to give you enough room. You leaned over, dropping the book onto the floor by Sam’s side of the bed, then snuggled down between them, Sam playing big spoon as you nuzzled your nose against Dean’s cheek.

“He told you?” Dean asked quietly and you nodded. “Good.” That seemed to be all he wanted and his eyes closed, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks. You smiled and closed your own eyes, letting sleep pull you under.

Your bladder awoke you hours later, still firmly wedged between your two brothers. Slipping free, you ran to the bathroom, shivering when your feet connected with cold tiles. As quickly as you could, you returned to the bedroom, skidding to a stop when you saw Sam and Dean now spooning in the bed.

“Huh,” you said loudly, disturbing them, “I always thought Sam would be the big spoon.” Both Alphas woke abruptly, eyes snapping open and they sprang apart like an electric current had gone between them. Unfortunately, the bed in your room wasn’t one of the queen size beds and the movement had them both thudding to the floor either side of the bed.

You doubled over laughing, feeling like you might pee again.

“Dude!” Sam hissed, getting to his feet. “You were  _ cuddling _ .”

“So?” Dean defended. “You used to cuddle like that all the time!”

“When I was four!”

You raised a hand, shaking your head as you tried to control your laughter. “Boys, boys,” you hiccuped out, “it was a few seconds. Don’t make it a big deal.” You straightened yourself, wiping at your eyes with the back of your wrist before strolling past Sam and dropping back into the middle of the bed.

Sam huffed, staring Dean down. “After you,” he growled and Dean chuckled.

“So it’s like that, huh?” he challenged back and you rolled your eyes.

“Hey,” you snapped, sitting up. “Remember when I said we should have that dick measuring competition?” The tension between them faded as they looked at you, smiling widely on the bed. Before you could react, they tackled you, pinning you down against the mattress and tickling you until you were  _ certain _ you would pee again.

Dean gave out first, flopping onto his back, laughing as hard as you and Sam were. The younger brother went second and all three of you laid panting on the bed. “I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time,” Sam admitted, rolling his head to look at you, seeking out your fingers between your bodies.

“Me either,” you replied, feeling that odd discomfort you’d had in your belly since you’d come back start to dissipate. Dean’s hand slid over your hip bone, crawling underneath the thin shorts you were wearing. “Missed you both, so much,” you murmured, pressing in to kiss Sam as Dean’s fingers pushed your shorts down.

His touch made you shiver and he chuckled, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder, teasing his index finger around your clit and Sam swallowed each wispy gasp. His hand cupped your cheek, holding you steady and you could feel his erection pressing into your thigh through the material of his sweats.

“I need you,” you whispered, clenching around nothing, bucking your hips up to try and get Dean to move, to touch you more. He didn’t respond to your whimpered pleas, keeping his touch light over your clit. Sam laughed when he pulled away, your lips pursed and eyes closed, craning your neck forward for more.

Your eyes opened as Sam moved away, standing from the bed to strip his sweats off, his cock thick and hard, jutting from a thatch of dark hair. He kneeled back on the bed, leaning over you and you instantly reached up, grasping him firmly and guiding his cock towards your mouth.

Dean was kissing down your body now, stopping at your nipples just as you sucked the crown of Sam’s cock between your lips. The moan he provoked when he ran his tongue around your nipple was low and made Sam bite his bottom lip in pleasure, his hips thrusting forward a little. He braced his weight on the headboard, looking down at where Dean was sucking your nipple hard enough to make you moan again.

Neither of them spoke; the only sound in the room now was your muffled whines and the boys’ panting. Dean abandoned your breasts and snatched his hand from your shorts, leaning back to peel them down your legs, tossing them away into the corner. He mimicked Sam’s earlier move, climbing from the bed and stripping, before returning himself to the mattress, spreading your thighs with his big hands.

He groaned at the sight of your glistening sex, lowering himself down on thick biceps to lick a strip from bottom to top and you squealed with Sam’s dick in your throat, almost gagging on the salty tang of precum dripping from the tip. When Dean nuzzled his face into you, thrusting his tongue into your greedy hole, you pulled away from Sam gasping for breath and clutching the bed covers.

Your other hand was still wrapped around the base of Sam’s cock and he groaned loudly when you squeezed him in time with your moans. His hips rolled slowly, pushing his length back and forth through your fingers as Dean’s tongue slid up to your clit, circling it, before sucking down hard enough to make you buck and wail.

Sam’s hand moved from your jaw to your hair, fisting it and bringing your mouth closer. Dean kept moving, coaxing you through your climax as Sam silenced your screams with his cock, forcing his entire length between your lips.

Pleasure overwhelmed you as your eyes rolled back and Dean pulled away. Sam didn’t stop, his climax coming too abruptly and you struggled to swallow his load as he spent himself in your throat.

“Fuck,” he hissed, almost falling backward off the bed as you pulled back, licking your lips clean of his cum. Dean was kneeled between your thighs, an amused smirk on his face as Sam collapsed, clinging to the covers. “Fuck.”

“On your side, sweetheart,” Dean ordered, slapping your thigh gently and you scowled, obeying anyway. He grinned and slotted himself behind you, lifting your leg and rubbing his cock against your slick pussy lips. “Goddamn, you’re so warm.”

You moaned, arching your neck as he rutted against you, coating his dick in your juices. Your insides clenched, desperate for friction and Dean obliged, sliding his cock into you with one smooth stroke.

Sam was on his side now, watching your face as your older sibling fucked you hard, dragging out each thrust with precision before slamming back to fill you again. Each slam of his hips made you gasp and Sam grinned, lazily trailing his fingers around your swollen nipples.

“At least I get to watch you cum on Dean’s knot,” he purred, pushing closer, his hand sliding from your breast to between your thighs, zeroing in on your sensitive clit. “Wonder how many times I can make you cum before he does?” Sam mused aloud, looking thoughtful with his head propped up on one hand, arm bent at the elbow like he wasn’t touching your cunt while your brother fucked you.

His fingertip pressed down insistently on your clit and you cried out, gasping and choking as you came with the slight stimulation and Dean growled against your throat, nipping at the skin.

“Keep her cumming, Sam,” he panted, breath hot and sticky on your neck. “She’s tight as fuck, getting wetter every time you touch her.”

Sam’s grin widened and he leaned his head down, sucking your abused left nipple into his mouth. You whimpered and bucked, the sensation of Sam’s mouth, his fingers, Dean’s cock, almost too much to bear. He groaned as he felt your slick coating his fingers and your nipple hardened to the point of pain.

You weren’t sure if it was two orgasms or one that just kept going but when Dean’s knot thickened and popped, instantly filling you to the brim, you almost passed out. Sam didn’t stop touching you, keeping your body in a constant state of spasm as you came and Dean’s release filled you until it leaked out, coating his balls.

When you did gain some sort of sensation, you smiled languidly and Sam chuckled, leaning in to kiss your nose. He sat up, grabbing the discarded covers and covering all three of you, as Dean snuggled into you from behind.

“Just for the record,” he mumbled in your ear, “I’m  _ always _ the big spoon.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, but I got the bigger dick.”

You groaned, clenching around Dean’s still-swollen knot and he grunted. “Both of you,” you yawned, snuggling down, slipping your arm around Sam’s waist to tug him closer. “Shut up.”


	36. Chapter 36

Everything seemed different the next morning. Sam woke first, rousing you with lazy kisses, taking you slowly as Dean started to stir, grumbling about being left out before fully joining in. Breakfast was jovial and Thomas outlined a dinosaur exhibit Sam had promised to take him to at some point.

The next few days passed in a flurry of family moments, time with Thomas and getting to know your Alphas all over again. Things were settling down, feeling right, and of course, when you’re a Winchester, that never goes well.

Mary left, the following week. She apologized to you, citing the need to check in on old friends, to rediscover herself in this world. Dean and Sam were crushed, you were too, but you understood how she felt. You’d come back to a family that needed you and it was Mary who felt like she didn’t belong. She promised you that she would come back for your appointment with the doctor, reminding you of the positive pregnancy test you’d left in the trash at Walgreens.

Dean was sullen for a few days until Thomas picked up on his mood. With a gift he could have only gotten from his father, he insisted Nana Mary would be back soon, that she’d miss them all and that they could have fun to distract ourselves.

You hadn’t signed up for paintballing.

A day alone meant sorting out things you didn’t need the boys around for. In your head, that was calling the doctor, setting up an appointment and letting Mary know when it was. She’d promised to go with you and you knew she wouldn’t let you down.

The receptionist said there was a wait to see the doctor, asking how far along you were. When you said it was maybe a week or two, she told you to wait until you were around six weeks and call back. She hung up abruptly, leaving you staring at the phone.

Texting Mary, you told her the news and she replied quickly. You were still getting used to the new style of smartphone although you’d already found a whole bunch of joy in Snapchat.

**Will be gone for at least three weeks. Book it when you can. let me know. Xxx Mary**

You didn’t know why she insisted on signing every message with her name when it was clearly her texting.

Pocketing your phone, you started to tidy up around the bunker, which quickly turned to cleaning. That, in turn, led to rearranging the bedrooms, figuring out how to push two of the doubles together to make one big bed for you and the boys to share. Deciding on your room, you started to find things around the bunker to make it more like home, compiling a shopping list of the things you wanted.

It didn’t even occur to you that you were nesting. Neither of the boys said anything when they returned, exhausted from chasing Thomas around all day.

“Looks nice in here,” Dean commented, peering around the room. He seemed oddly comfortable, smiling when you showed him how you’d connected the beds together and picked comforters from their rooms so their scents stayed mixed together. He frowned a little at that, before letting it slide, locating a towel quickly. “I’m gonna grab a shower,” he announced, raising his eyebrows at you. “Wanna help?”

You blushed, looking towards the door. “Sam was putting Thomas to bed,” you whispered.

Dean waved the concern off, still grinning. “He’ll be able to find us.”

He wasn’t lying. Sam was in the bathroom not five minutes after, stripping his clothes as he headed towards the shower where Dean already had you pinned against the wall, working his cock into your slippery channel. Sam climbed in and Dean turned you so the front of your body was flush with Sam’s, soaking his tanned skin.

“Hmm, this is how I like to get ready for bed,” Sam murmured, capturing your mouth in a kiss. Dean pulled out, looking at Sam with a lewd expression and holding up a bar of soap. “Want us to clean you all over, ‘mega?” You nodded, whining then gasping when Dean slid the bar of soap down to your ass.

Sam lifted you easily under the spray and you hooked your legs around his waist, letting him guide his cock into your pussy, filling you with a slow moan that ended with his mouth buried against the curve of your throat. Dean grinned, pressing the soap against you, creating a slick foam before coating his cock with the suds.

It was blissful, the way he eased into you as Sam held you still on his twitching member, and the guttural noise that left Dean’s lips vibrated down your spine. When he was finally inside you to the root, both brothers remained still, heads bowed against each of your shoulders. 

Everything felt like it was going to be alright.

They fucked you slowly, letting you feel every bit of their connection to you, until you came with a shuddering gasp, sputtering a little in the water. Dean followed close behind, pumping his cum into your belly as Sam kept on fucking you, pushing you into a swift repeat climax as his cum splashed against your cervix and dribbled down your thighs.

Parting slowly, none of you spoke, washing each other delicately. Sam still refused to let you wash his hair but Dean wasn’t so fussy, making exaggerated noises of pleasure as you massaged his scalp. When all three of you were clean, they took you back to the bedroom you’d made yours.

Sam initiated this time, sliding into your still wet pussy, groaning when you rolled so he was underneath you, lifting your hips to ride him. Dean watched for a moment, lazily stroking his cock as you whimpered and writhed on Sam’s length.

You sat up straight, reaching out for Dean’s cock, taking it in your fingers and commandeering control. He relented easily, biting his bottom lip until it was white. Sam thrust up into you, distracting your attention and reaching up for your tits.

His large hands encompassed both of them and he squeezed, making you cry out and tighten around him. Your pace faltered as you started to cum again, releasing your hold on Dean.

“Dean,” you whimpered, hating that he was being left out. Sam grunted as you climaxed, his knot swelling and locking inside you, his arousal not having ebbed after fucking you in the shower. His hand reached out, landing on the side of Dean’s head.

“Your turn.”

You wiggled as Sam lifted you, his knot easing out with an audible pop and a gush of cum. Without waiting, Dean pulled you away, forcing you onto your back and looming over you as you struggled to recover from your orgasm. “Want my knot, ‘mega?” he growled and you made some sort of pitiful sound that would come back to haunt you or make you giggle later on.

Dean moved his hips, inching his cock into your body, groaning as your heat swallowed him up, his brother’s cum making you slippery slick. You clutched at his thick shoulders, crying out when his cockhead slammed into your sweet spot and he snarled, pulling back out to repeat the action.

Each thrust sent you further up the bed, the headboard squeaking as it slammed into the wall but Dean didn’t stop, even when you raked your nails down his back.

His knot swelled hard and fast, filling you to the point of aching as Dean kept going, kept fucking you until his entire body shook and he fell, burying his mouth against your throat, over his mark, and you felt the first spurt of cum in your belly.

You cried out, clinging to him, stroking the back of his head as he groaned into your neck.

When he was done, Dean rolled to the side, pulling you with him, holding you tightly. Sam pressed in behind you, pulling the covers over all three of you like he did every night. “Love you,” he whispered, keeping his voice close to your ear.

“Aww, love you too, sweetheart,” Dean drawled, chuckling as Sam reached around and slapped his brother’s bare thigh. “Hey!”

“Do you two ever stop bickering?” you muttered, eyes closed.

Sam chuckled, nuzzling into the back of your neck, his hands around your waist, unknowingly resting over where a new life was growing.

*****

You booked an appointment with the doctor a month later and texted Mary to tell her. When she didn’t reply, you were concerned, and Dean called her to check in, assuring you Mary was fine, just busy. They were leaving on a hunt for a few days, coincidentally when your appointment was booked and you panicked, thinking Mary wouldn’t make it back.

You still hadn’t gotten used to driving again, memories of the car accident frightening you too much to get behind the wheel. You’d taken to sitting in the back, feeling sick if you sat in the front at all.

The first day the boys were gone, you and Thomas went out into the woods around the bunker, catching frogs and just spending time together. With the sun shining and everything peaceful, you decided to have lunch outdoors and that was where Mary found you when she appeared, smiling widely but looking tired.

“Mary!” you exclaimed, spotting her before Thomas did.

The boy was up and racing towards her before he’d even gotten “Nana Mary!” out of his mouth, throwing his arms around her middle, making her grunt and laugh. Thomas was grinning widely and led her over to the picnic blanket.

“Everything okay?” you asked, worried about the lack of contact you’d had.

“I’m fine,” Mary replied, giving you a huge smile. There was something nagging at you but you ignored it, putting it down to pregnancy hormones.

By the time you fell into bed that night, surrounded by the lingering scent of your Alphas, you’d forgotten all about it.

*****

“Congratulations,” the doctor said, sounding completely uninterested. “You’re pregnant.”

“Well, I already knew that,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “My last period was the 14th of July. That makes me about eight weeks right?”

He looked up, peering at you over his glasses like you were an idiot. “Correct,” he ground out, sighing heavily. “I’ve written you a prescription for prenatal vitamins and you know the usual; no smoking, no drinking, limit your coffee intake, and no drugs.” You stared at him like he’d grown an extra head but he ignored it, handing over a piece of paper. “Take this to the girl at the desk. She’ll book you an appointment for an ultrasound in about four weeks.”

Standing up, you took the piece of paper, assuming it was your dismissal and when the doctor didn’t say anything else, you scurried from the room, quickly locating Mary and Thomas in the waiting room. The young boy was playing with something in the corner and you headed for the receptionist, handing her the paper the doctor had given you.

“Everything okay?” Mary asked, appearing behind you.

“Yeah,” you rushed out, taking the prescription from the receptionist. “About eight weeks. Pre-natal vitamins and don’t do drugs.”

Mary chuckled and Thomas popped up beside her. “You okay, mom?”

You nodded, smiling at him. “Of course. Shall we get drive-thru for lunch?” Glancing at Mary, she nodded, turning away to head for the car. Her phone buzzed in the pocket and she pulled it out to answer but you ignored it, bending to Thomas’ height. “I gotta tell you something later, something  _ really _ secret, okay?”

Thomas nodded and you pinched his cheek, heading for the door where Mary was ending her call. “Shall we?” she asked, gesturing to the station wagon parked outside.

The drive-thru was busy and Mary pulled into the line, looking around anxiously. You were quick to pick up on her behavior, frowning and reaching out to touch her arm. “Mary, are you okay?”

She looked over at you like she’d been startled - your reaction was cut off by a hand coming through the open window. It wrapped around your mouth, silencing the scream you were about to make but not silencing Thomas’. He yelled, as loudly as he could, just as the rear door of the car opened and arms came in to drag him out, gagging him.

No one in any of the cars was moving or even noticing what was going on. You fought and screamed as you were dragged out of the vehicle, wondering why Mary was just watching it happen. Your captor struggled to get you away, into a waiting van, where they already had your son, handcuffed and gagged.

You bit down on your attacker’s arm, forcing him to free you and you took off at a dead sprint, heading straight for your son. Someone fired a gun and there was a sharp sting in your shoulder blade. Your legs became heavy, weak, and you felt like you were falling in slow motion, catching only a glimpse of the dart in your shoulder.

Mary was holding the gun.

Your face slammed into the concrete, triggering an instant headache and the taste of blood in your mouth. Whatever they’d shot you with, it was paralyzing you. Panic flared in your head as you thought about the baby, tears starting to leak from your closed eyes.

“Good job,” drawled a posh accent and you vaguely felt a hand touching you, patting you down for weapons and removing the ones they found. “Get her in the van,” the voice commanded but you were already out cold.


	37. Chapter 37

Whatever you were laying on was soft and comfortable and you weren’t alone. Cracking your eyes open, you saw Thomas’ thick head of brown hair first, looking down to find the boy curled up against you, his little arms wrapped around your waist. He was asleep, although his eyes were red-rimmed and swollen from crying.

Taking in your surroundings, you squinted, the white walls too bright for your bleary vision. The drug they’d shot you with was still lingering in your system, making your body heavy and difficult to coordinate. Eventually, you gave up, encircling Thomas with your arms and letting your eyes fall shut again.

You could have been lying there for hours. Thomas eventually stirred and woke up, pushing himself into a seated position as you opened your eyes to watch him. “Mom?” His voice was plaintive and small. “Did the bad men hurt you?”

“No,” you assured him, groaning as you pushed up to stretch your legs out, propping your back against the wall. “They didn’t hurt me, baby, I’m okay. You’re okay?” Thomas nodded, sniffling and you opened your arms to him. He didn’t need any further encouragement, throwing himself into your embrace and sobbing against your shirt. “We’re gonna be fine, Thomas, I promise. Your dads with come for us.”

He nodded, pressing himself further into you and you clutched him tightly, kissing his forehead as you watched the door opposite the bed.

Mary had done this. Why? Why would she do this to you, to Thomas?

There were no windows in the cell, nothing aside from the bed and the toilet in the opposing corner. Thomas hadn’t eaten in hours and you had no way of knowing what the time was. His belly growled before yours and he whimpered in discomfort, prompting you to shift him onto the bed alone as you got to your feet.

“Hey!” you yelled, inspecting each corner for cameras or anything  to show someone was watching. For emphasis, you slammed your fist against the door, hammering it with your fury increasing in each punch. “Let us out! We haven’t done anything!”

Thomas was sat with his knees to his chest, staring at the door with fright on his young face and it only made you angrier. You kicked and punched the door until your limbs hurt and your knuckles were bloody, leaving prints on the door.

It opened abruptly, sliding to the side like something out of a damn science fiction show and you instantly fell into a defensive position, fists up and ready to throw hits at whoever walked in. Mary’s face appeared and you growled, eyes flashing. You fell back to shield Thomas, who scrambled forward, not recognizing the danger in this unknown woman wearing his grandmother’s face.

“You betrayed us,” you snarled, keeping Thomas back with one arm, desperate to protect him. Mary didn’t reply, staring at you impassively as another figure stepped into the small cell. This man was tall, dressed in a smart navy blue suit with a pink flower in his breast pocket.

“She was only doing as she was told,” he smiled, showing pearly white teeth, one hand coming up to straighten his tie. There was a cross tattooed on his hand and you recognized his voice from when they’d abducted you. “I trust you are finding the quarters comfortable.”

“It’s a cell with a bed and a toilet,” you sneered, pushing Thomas back towards the bed. He was clinging to your shirt now, fright making his little fists tight in the material. “Hardly the Ritz. What do you want with us?”

The man’s smile didn’t waiver and you had to hold yourself back from attacking him. It wouldn’t do you or Thomas any good. “You’re our leverage, my dear.”

“Leverage for what?” you demanded.

He tilted his head. “She is a feisty one,” he chuckled, directing his comment at Mary who didn’t so much as blink. “Leverage against your Alphas, my dear. We need them to see things from our point of view. And the best way to do that –“ He held out his hands, gesturing to you like you were a prize to be won. “Leverage.”

You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from your throat. “You’re an idiot,” you smirked, shaking your head. “All this will get you is dead.”

Mary moved, heading back towards the door, barely sparing you a glance. Her hands were by her side and she moved like a zombie, her actions controlled as a robot would be. The British man grinned at you, bowing his head. “I’ll send in some rations for you,” he said slowly, backing towards the door. “We don’t intend you any harm. The sooner the Winchesters come round, the sooner you can go home.”

“I’m going to kill you,” you murmured, locking your eyes on his as he stood in the doorway.

“Good luck with that,” he drawled and the door slid shut.

For a moment, you stood still, shaking with rage, until Thomas’ hands tugged your shirt down, distracting your attention. “Mom?” he whispered. “Dad and Pops are coming right?”

You forced a smile onto your face, dropping down to his height and cupping his cheek, knowing that you would kill anyone who tried to harm him. “They’re coming, Thomas. They’re gonna save us and we’re gonna go home. Real soon, okay?” He nodded, shuffling back to the bed and curling up into a ball.

You looked back to the door, murderous anger swelling in your belly. Whoever these people were, they were going to die for threatening your pack.

Every. Single. One.

*****

Dean strolled into the bunker, dumping his duffel bag on the table. The entire building was quiet and he frowned as Sam descended the stairs, wondering where their usual welcome was. Thomas was always the first to run out and greet them but it didn’t seem anyone was home.

“Thomas?” he called out, leaving his bag and wandering into the library, calling for their son. “Y/N?” Dean glanced at Sam, stood behind him, noticing the deep frown on his brother’s face. “Do you think they went out?” he asked.

Sam scented the air, his frown growing deeper as he walked away from Dean, heading down towards the bedrooms. He checked Thomas’ room first, then Y/N’s but both were empty and void of any fresh scent. “Dean…” He stepped into his Omega’s room, casting his eyes over the large bed and the nest of pillows she slept with when they were away. “They’ve been gone for days. Nothing…” he sucked in a breath, “nothing smells like them.”

“Where the hell are they?” Dean growled out, pulling his phone from his pocket, dialing Jody’s number. After a short, clipped conversation, he hung up, fixing his eyes on his brother. “Jody hasn’t seen them. She’s putting out an APB.”

Sam turned, stomping out of the room, his worry forcing his stomach to churn and he shook his head. “Where are they?” he asked, fruitlessly.

A second later, Dean’s phone rang loudly and he answered. Sam turned, his concern growing when Dean’s face went white. “Got it. Yeah. Thanks, Jody.” He hung up again, giving Sam a look that filled him with dread. “She found a report on the system. An incident at a drive-thru in Lebanon. A woman and a child were dragged into a van but by the time the police got there, they were gone.”

Sam’s face drained of color and he felt sick to his core. “They’ve been kidnapped?”

Dean nodded, staring at his phone. “By who?”

“I can think of one recent culprit,” Sam snarled, fists curling at his side. “And I’ve been waiting for a little payback.”

“Where the hell would they take them?” Dean asked, his frustration evident. “They could be halfway round the fuckin’ world right now, Sam!” The younger Winchester reached out, placing his hand on Dean’s shoulder in an effort to calm him. Somehow, it worked and Dean’s breathing evened out. “We’ve still got that guy’s number, what was his name?”

“Mick Davies,” Sam muttered. “Think we can get a lead out of him?”

“I think we should call him. Tell him we’d like to talk,” Dean suggested, shrugging Sam’s hand off his shoulder and walking towards the war room. “Then we can kill him.”

“Why would the British Men Of Letters take her?” Sam demanded, scrolling through his phone to find the number Mick had given them. “She’s our Omega. Thomas is just a kid. What possible use could they have for them?”

Dean shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“No,” Sam conceded, dialing Mick Davies’ number. “They’re dead either way.”

*****

The food they’d delivered was meager and not very tasty but Thomas was hungry enough not to care. You snatched a cracker from the tray, nibbling on it, content to let your son have the lion’s share. He managed to convince you to take a juice box, saying you needed to keep your strength up.

“Mom?” he asked, stuffing a piece of cheese into his mouth.

“Yeah?”

He swallowed the food, looking over at you on the other side of the bed. “What were you going to tell me?” You sucked in a breath, closing your eyes. The likelihood was that your captors already knew the truth – Mary knew and she would have undoubtedly told them everything. There was no point hiding it from Thomas. “I mean, we’re stuck here until Dad and Pops come for us. So you may as well tell me now?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, hating that this was the situation you were in. Shuffling into the spot next to him, you forced a smile onto your face. “Well, I don’t know how you feel about it. And I want you to know that no matter what, I love you, okay?”

Thomas grinned knowingly. “Am I gonna be a big brother?” he asked, excitedly.

Relief flooded you at his obvious joy. “Yeah, you are,” you confirmed and he pumped the air with his fist excitedly. “I haven’t told Sam or Dean yet, so do you think you could keep it a secret?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “But what if the nasty British man tells them first? I heard them talking about it in the van when you were asleep.”

So they’d ruined the surprise for him. You frowned, tilting your head. “You already knew?”

“Sort of? I didn’t understand a lot of what they were talking about,” Thomas admitted. “It was a lot of talk about institutions and training, and they kept saying something about packs and brothers but… that’s not right. Because you’re my mom and Dad and Pop couldn’t be your brothers right?”

A further curse against your captors developed in your head but you kept it to yourself. “It’s complicated, Thomas,” you murmured, keeping your voice low. “But your dads? They’re my brothers. There’s nothing wrong with it – we’re pack, which means we belong together. I know it’s difficult to understand…”

“No, I think I get it,” Thomas interrupted. “We were learning about Alphas in school. They said sometimes, kids have more than two parents because  of the pack gene.”

You stared at him, constantly amazed at the depth of his understanding, the way he accepted what was and moved on if he couldn’t affect it in any way.

“You’re not… freaked out?” you whispered, frowning.

“Why would I be freaked out, Mom?” he replied, grinning. “Dad and Pops have never been this happy. They were always okay, I guess, but since you woke up…” He leaned in, throwing his arms around you. “We’re a proper family now and I get to be a big brother!”

Goddamn, he was so sweet, you thought you might start bawling there and then. You held him back, trying not to cry, comforted by his scent, a perfect mix of Winchester. “We’re gonna be fine, kiddo,” you promised. “Sam and Dean will be here soon. They’re gonna get us out of here, I promise.”

The door slid open without warning and you looked up, ready to attack any threat that presented itself. A blonde woman was stood in the doorway, smiling, her perfectly done hair already making you want to stab her in the face. When she stepped into the room, you noticed the taser in her hand, and your entire body tensed with an aggressive reflex.

“Miss Winchester,” the woman greeted, her British accent chipper and grating. “I’m so glad I could have the pleasure of meeting you. I believe we have a common acquaintance.”

You assumed she was talking about Mary and then she drew closer, the glint in her eyes threatening. “Who the hell are you?” you growled out, instinctively placing yourself between her and your son. The blonde smiled again, holding out the taser.

“I’m really hoping I won’t need to use this,” she commented casually. “I’m Lady Bevell.”

It was like a blind rage descending over your entire body. The conversations with Sam, so fresh and vivid, the recollection of his torture, mentally and physically, at this woman’s hands…

Only Thomas’ light hold on your hand stopped you from lunging to rip her throat out with your bare teeth. You were shaking, tense and ready to kill, and Lady Bevell’s smile only made you more bloodthirsty. “I do hope we can build a dialog here,” the blonde continued, apparently oblivious to your fury. “It would be helpful for all –“

“Lady Bevell!” A sharp voice called and the suited man from earlier appeared behind the blonde woman, grabbing her arm. “You were instructed –“

“I am perfectly entitled to ignore your orders, Ketch,” Lady Bevell sneered, pulling her arm free. “And this entire operation was mine in the first place!”

“Until you screwed it up,” Ketch snarled, dragging her from the cell. For a second, the door remained open and you had a second to decide whether to run. But then Mary was there, blocking the doorway as the two Brits bickered, their voices diminishing with each moment.

“Mary…” you whispered, trying to reach out to her but she didn’t so much as blink.

The door closed, leaving you and Thomas alone once more.


	38. Chapter 38

Mick Davies was not expecting two fully armed and pissed hunters when he pulled up to the roadside diner just outside of Lebanon. The diner was closed, empty of any life and he realized that he’d walked straight into a trap. The Winchesters didn’t want to talk about working with the British Men Of Letters – they were only interested in obliterating him.

He should have turned around and driven off but Dean already had his door open before he’d stopped the car, dragging him from his seat, tearing the seatbelt in his rage. His physical strength was too much for Mick to fight against and he went limp, deciding his life was worth more than keeping his pledge to the organization.

“Where are they?” Dean snarled as Sam cocked his pistol and aimed it at Mick’s head.

“Who?” the smaller Brit replied, flinging his hands up in surrender.

“Y/N. Thomas, our son,” Sam hissed, his voice a guttural growl, filled with rage. The obvious choice was to comply but Mick didn’t have a clue what they were on about. “Your boys took them. And our mom.”

Mick shook his head, spluttering in Dean’s grasp. The gun was inching closer to his head and he knew if he didn’t come up with an answer soon, his brains would be decorating his car. “I don’t know anything about that. I’ve been working in the Midwest, speaking to hunters. I don’t anything about your Omega!”

“But you know she’s our Omega?”

An uneasy laugh left Mick’s lips. “There’s a file about the size of War And Peace on you two, of course we know she’s your Omega. She was in a coma, right?”

Sam’s finger looked awfully itchy on the trigger and Mick though he might piss himself. “You got a way of contacting your superiors?” Dean ground out, pulling the smaller man up a little straighter. His feet were barely touching the floor already and he let out an unmanly squeak.

“Yes!” he gasped, nodding. “Yes, I can call them.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Sam murmured. “We shouldn’t let them know we’re aware. Best way is to surprise them.”

The muffled sound of “Swing Low” started to chime in Mick’s coat pocket and Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Answer it,” he ordered. Mick reached into his coat, pulling the cell phone free and staring at the screen. Ketch was calling him and he showed the screen to Dean. “No funny business,” he snarled, releasing Mick’s jacket lapels so he could answer the phone.

“Hello?” He listened to the man on the other end, sighing as Ketch told him he knew where he was and who he was with. Holding out the phone, he shrugged helplessly. “It’s Mr. Ketch. He would like to speak to you.”

Dean stared at the phone like it might bite and Sam snatched it, venom dripping from his voice. “Where is she?” he demanded, foregoing any pleasantries. His eyes locked on Dean’s as Ketch spoke, his stiff accent and condescending tone making his blood boil.

“They are fine and safe, Mr. Winchester. However, whether they remain that way, is yet to be ascertained.”

“You realize I’ve got one of your men here and I’m not afraid to hurt him,” Sam threatened and Mick’s eyes went wide.

Ketch chuckled on the other end of the line. “As much as I believe you would follow through on that threat, Mick is entirely expendable in these circumstances. And I think you want your Omega back a little too much to make an enemy out of the British Men Of Letters.”

“You’ve already made an enemy.” His voice dropped an octave and Mick saw the bright blue flaring in his dark eyes. Dean’s lip curled upwards, showing his canines, elongated and sharp – Mick knew Ketch was in over his head. He’d picked a fight with a pack, a dangerous pack at that. “You tell me where they are. Now.”

“Now, now, Samuel, no need for that sort of chatter.” Ketch laughed dryly down the phone and Sam’s knuckles cracked as he clenched his fist. “Mick knows where our facility is. We’ll see you in a few hours.” The line went dead and Sam roared, making Mick shrink back as he launched the phone at the car, shattering the screen when it collided with the red metal panel of the back door.

“I’m going to kill them,” he snarled, lip curling and eyes blazing. Dean didn’t say or do anything to discourage him and Mick definitely thought he might pee his pants. “You.” Sam pointed his finger at Mick, who looked like a deer in a hunter’s scope. You know where they’re holed up.”

Mick nodded and then jumped as Dean grabbed his shoulder, smiling in a decidedly unfriendly manner. “Looks like you get to live a little bit longer,” he smirked.

*****

Ketch hung up the phone, dropping it onto the table as he regarded Toni Bevell, his smug smirk prompting her to roll her eyes. “It would be unwise for you to be here when Sam Winchester arrives, Lady Bevell,” he droned, rifling through some paperwork on his desk. Lady Bevell watched him from across the room, her eyes trained on the monitor showing Y/N and Thomas in their cell.

“What do you think they see in her?” she mused, stroking her chin with her finger, her other arm across her chest. “She’s so… plain.”

“I don’t really care,” Ketch sniffed, turning his attention to his computer. “She’s a means to an end. If the Winchesters come on board, we’ll let her go. If they don’t play ball, we’ll kill them.” She turned, looking at him in concern.

“The boy too? Seems hardly constructive.”

Ketch chuckled, shaking his head. “What else should we do with him?”

Toni shrugged, walking over to sit down, her eyes still lingering on the monitor. “He’s a child, Ketch. Surely even you aren’t that callous?” The other operative regarded her coolly before shaking his head and Toni sighed. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Ketch.”

“And you taunting our captive was any better?” he shot back. “You broke the parameters of the operation, Lady Bevell. Not me. I am following my orders to the letter. Doctor Hess would expect no less.”

She scowled at him. “I almost had what we needed. Sam was –“

“Sam is probably going to kill you if he sees you,” Ketch interrupted, flicking his hand at her, dismissing her. “I’ve got work to do. I suggest you make yourself scarce.”

Lady Bevell stood up, huffing in irritation as she walked out of the office and into the main meeting room of the makeshift bunker. Daisy, one of the junior operatives, was going through the weapons cache and she looked up as Toni walked in. “Good afternoon, Lady Bevell,” she greeting, smiling. Toni grunted back, crossing the room to sit at the computer station, switching the machine on. “Exciting news that we might be getting a permanent base,” the younger woman commented and Toni turned, looking at her.

“Permanent base?” she asked and Daisy nodded brightly.

“Yes, ma’am. Apparently, Doctor Hess gave Ketch the go-ahead to commandeer the old American bunker. I can’t wait to get my hands on all those artifacts.”

Toni stared at the girl, bewildered. “Commandeer the bunker?”

Daisy nodded again. “Yes, ma’am. Didn’t Mr. Ketch tell you?” Toni’s eyes narrowed, focusing on the door she’d come through, the sheer glass showing Ketch typing away on his computer.

“No,” she muttered, scowling. “No, he didn’t.”

The Winchesters wouldn’t give up their home without a fight. Did Ketch intend to get them to hand the bunker over? No. More likely he was planning to kill them and take the bunker by force. Suspicion crawled into the back of her mind, making her more determined to find out what he was up to.

Abandoning the computer, Toni turned away, ignoring Daisy and heading down to the cells. She could persuade the Omega to help her, she was sure of it – if it meant her home and her family being safe.

*****

Sleep was not forthcoming. You didn’t trust your captors enough to let your guard down for one moment. Thomas was bored, his active nine-year-old mind making him restless and the thumb wars had gotten boring after a few hours. Now, he was laid on the bed, planning out his birthday, despite it being months away.

“Do you think the baby will be here by then?” he asked, glancing over at you but you didn’t hear the question the first time, lifting your eyes to meet his. “I’d really like to have a brother or sister for my birthday,” he continued and you smiled, looking down at the slat you were slowly working out of the bed frame to try and make a weapon out of.

“The baby isn’t due until March,” you replied, finally getting one side of the slat free, your fingers raw and bleeding from your work. It was most likely pointless – you knew there was a camera in here somewhere. “So it’ll be a really late birthday present.”

Thomas hummed, sitting up to see what you were doing. “I’ve got my pocket knife,” he offered helpfully, pulling it out of his pocket. “They didn’t search me. I think they thought I wasn’t scary.”

You looked up, surprised at his secret treasure. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” you asked, not scolding but reaching out to take the knife as Thomas’ cheeks turned red.

“I didn’t want to get in trouble. Dad says I’m not supposed to take it out of the bunker.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind,” you whispered, flicking the knife open. The tool made your attempt to free the slat much easier but as it came free, the door slid open, revealing Lady Bevell on a return visit. Instantly, your face contorted into a scowl and you got to your feet, shielding Thomas and hiding the knife in the back pocket of your pants.

The woman still looked smug and you still wanted to kick her head in but there was an urgency to her actions that gave you pause when she shut the door and pressed herself against it, looking up at where you now knew the camera was. “You’re in danger,” she hissed.

“Obviously,” you retorted. “But as it’s your fault, I wouldn’t expect you to do anything about it.”

“Not from me,” Lady Bevell replied. “Mr. Ketch is planning to take your bunker from you. I don’t believe he intends to form a partnership with the Americans at all.”

“What, and you’re working towards a world peace treaty?” you scoffed.

The other woman sighed. “Look, I know you don’t like me, I don’t expect you to. But you need me if you want to get out of here alive and with both your children safe.” The threat made you narrow your eyes at the blonde who smiled when she realized she’d got your attention. “Your Alphas will be here soon. Ketch is in over his head, thinking he can take them down. Even with all the weapons in the world, we’re not going to stop them.”

“And what are you proposing?”

“Mary,” Lady Bevell answered. “I’m the one who programmed her.”

Your fists clenched at your side. “Programmed her?”

“It’s a  brainwashing technique. I’m the only one who can undo it.” You stared at her, wondering if she was lying. Her face didn’t disclose any emotion and you slowly moved closer. “Y/N, you’ve got to listen to me –“ The door opened again and Lady Bevell spun around on the spot, meeting Mary’s smiling face. “Mary –“

The knife struck without any warning, slicing through Toni’s throat and blood spurted over the hunter’s face and body, dripping to the floor only seconds before she collapsed in a growing puddle. Mary’s eyes focused on you and Thomas screamed in terror, backing up against the wall.

“I did warn her,” Ketch drawled, appearing next to Mary, leaning casually against the wall. “In any case, things are moving forward.” He stepped over Lady Bevell’s corpse, coming closer to you as you shook with fear and rage. His eyes regarded you with a lewd grin that made your skin crawl. “And you have a very large part to play.”


	39. Chapter 39

They had taken Thomas, dragging him screaming from the cell and leaving you alone. You’d fought, managing to gouge a chunk out of Ketch’s cheek before their suits were piling in the door, restraining you as your sobbing child was snatched from your arms.

To add insult to injury, they’d left Lady Bevell on the floor, slowly oozing blood onto the tiled floor. You were glad the woman was dead, less so that it was by someone else’s hand but to be left with a corpse, the thick scent of blood was choking in the small space; you already wanted to vomit.

Screaming and pounding at the door hadn’t done you any good - they ignored you. Threats of violence had little effect; you were a caged animal and the headache building behind your temples made your eyes sore and your gums ache.

You didn’t know how long passed but it must have been hours. Lady Bevell was a pale shade of grey, her eyes going yellow as she laid there, the blood congealing into a sticky clotted mess underneath her. Eventually, you curled up in the corner, as far from the corpse as you could get, wondering if things would have better had you never woken up.

In your grief, you never noticed the knife was no longer in your back pocket.

*****

Mick Davies wasn’t sure he would live through the night. Being a Man Of Letters could mean that for a lot of nights but this night felt particularly deadly. Either the two hunters holding him captive would kill him or Ketch would.

He also wasn’t sure which one of those outcomes he preferred.

Sam was scaring him more than Dean was. Mick had read the files on these boys and their complicated pack dynamic with their sister. He’d seen it before, the pack gene, but he’d never seen a blood family unit. The way the two Alphas moved was a thing of beauty, if it hadn’t been so fucking terrifying.

It looked like the scales were in the Winchesters favor where it came to Mick’s impending death.

“Up here, take a left,” he instructed, sitting in the backseat of the Impala looking out the front window between the two front seats. “There’s about two miles of forest, then the base.”

Dean pulled the wheel to the left, dipping the car’s lights. As they turned fully on to the road, he turned them off completely, slowing the vehicle to a crawl along the road. About half a mile down, he stopped the car completely, looking over at Sam. The younger brother nodded and glanced back at Mick.

“We’re walking from here,” he announced, not waiting for a reply before he climbed out, Dean moving at the same time and Mick swallowed, remaining in the backseat for a few seconds longer. Sucking in a breath, he slid towards the door and climbed out, watching the Winchesters load up their pistols, packing extra clips in their pockets.

By the way they held themselves, eyes filled with that eerie glow and teeth bared, guns were not the method of death anyone would be worried about. These Alphas looked like they could tear someone apart with their bare hands.

Mick’s throat went dry.

“You,” Dean grunted, shoving a free clip into his favorite pistol. Mick’s head jerked around at the sound. “You go first. You get our boy, you get him out and back to the car. You fail, you die and not pleasantly.” The Alpha’s eyes flashed and the Beta in Mick quivered with fright.

He was genuinely surprised he hadn’t pissed himself tonight.

“You got it, mate,” Mick replied, holding his hands up in surrender. If saving an innocent child was what they wanted him to do, he was more than happy to oblige. He knew the child would be killed if Ketch’s plan didn’t go as he liked.

He felt certain that Ketch would kill all of them if he could.

It was a very easy decision to pick the Winchesters over his employers. His odds of survival had gone up.

They skulked off to who-knows-where, disappearing into the darkness and Mick was terrified of them all over again. These men weren’t just hunters, they were predators and someone had threatened their pack.

He wasn’t going to be getting on their bad side. Taking off at a fast pace, he jogged towards the makeshift bunker, using his access code to get the front door open. It was supposedly the only entrance to the building but he wasn’t about to underestimate the hunters’ abilities.

The makeshift bunker looked empty - he wasn’t fooled. He moved through the storage area into the main room, finding Ketch stood at one end of the table, the Winchester boy by his side. The child was crying, fists balled at his sides. Ketch had hold of the nape of his jumper with one hand and a gun in the other.

“Mr Davies, how lovely to see you,” he commented in a casual tone and Mick spotted the deep gash on his cheek, four lines oozing blood. “And where are the brothers Winchester?” Mick gave him an awkward smile, unsure how to play this one out. Understanding dawned on Ketch’s face. “Ah, I see. Did your oath to give your life to the mission mean nothing?”

He raised the gun and Thomas cringed. Mick swallowed, raising his hands. “They’re here, Mr Ketch,” he offered hesitantly. “They’re…” The lights went out and every screen flickered before going dark. Mick dashed to the side, hoping Ketch wouldn’t be that good a shot in the dark and when he heard the other man yell in pain, he dropped to the floor.

A few seconds later and the lights came on. Ketch was kneeling on the floor, clutching his right hand, a knife piercing the appendage all the way through. The boy was gone and Mick scrambled to his feet, diving for Ketch’s gun.

The other Brit was slightly faster in peak condition but with a knife in his hand, he had no way of beating his opponent to the weapon. Mick grabbed it, bringing the butt of it down onto Ketch’s temple, knocking him out. Successful, Mick turned, ready to find the boy and get him out, only to find a gun pressed between his eyes.

Mary Winchester.

*****

“You’re trusting him with Thomas?” Dean seethed, creeping through the bunker hallways. “The man trips over his own shoelaces.”

“I’m trusting his survival instinct,” Sam replied tersely, holding his gun out in front of him, ready to kill anything he didn’t recognize. He could feel the sharp points of his canines digging into his bottom lip, blood staining his tongue but he couldn’t stop grinding his jaw. The thought of his Omega in danger was making his stomach churn and rage fuel his actions - he was on a thin edge, ready to snap at the first sign of violence.

Dean wasn’t much better, although he remained calmer than his younger brother. Both of them were moving in perfect rhythm, hunting like pack and when Sam pulled up, Dean was quickly to do the same.

Her scent drifted to them, along with the stench of stale blood. They were in a second hallway, with four doors, two on either side, leading off to rooms, they presumed. “This place looks like the inside of the goddamn Death Star,” Dean grunted, heading for the nearest door. “Her scent isn’t coming from here.”

They followed their instincts and quickly found the source of their Omega’s scent, the third door. Sam punched it once, testing the strength and he faltered when he realized how thick it was. Seconds ticked by and there was a thump from the other side.

“Y/N,” Sam called, sagging in relief when she answered back, muffled through the door.

“Sam!”

“Are you hurt?” he asked, waiting for a response.

“No,” she called back, “but they took Thomas. I don’t know where.”

Sam’s fists tightened and he heard Dean growl. “We’re gonna get you out, okay?”

“Go find Thomas first!” she yelled, slamming her hand against the again. It was an almost frightening tone, like an order and Dean’s head snapped round, his eyes wide. Normally an Alpha would use that sort of tone but this had a different feel to it. It felt… maternal. “Please,” she shouted, hitting the door again. “I’m fine in here, go get Thomas, please!”

Sam nodded at Dean and the elder brother took off. “We’ll be back, Y/N.”

“I know,” she replied confidently and Sam smiled, his hand lingering on the door before he turned to follow Dean up the hallway. It took seconds for him to catch up and they rounded the corner in unison.

In front of them, five armed men stood, clad head to toe in black tactical gear, only their eyes and mouths showing. Dean growled, baring his teeth, barely even noticing the automatic machine guns. Just as they prepared to open fire, a bright light filled the hallway and Castiel appeared, flinging all five to the floor and turning to Sam and Dean.

“I got your message,” he informed them, bluntly.

“Great,” Dean drawled sarcastically. Castiel tilted his head curiously, staring at them both.

“What happened to your teeth?”

Dean clamped a hand over his mouth, suddenly a little embarrassed and Sam chuckled. “We’ll explain later, he informed the angel, who shrugged and followed him down the hall. “We’ve gotta find Thomas.”

*****

Mick stared cross-eyed at the barrel of the gun in Mary’s hand, holding his hands up, the stolen gun hanging uselessly around his thumb. She cocked her head towards the table; “Put the gun down.” He swallowed, sliding sideways on his feet, dropping the weapon onto the tabletop.

“Mary, you don’t have to do this,” Mick said slowly, feeling sweat beading on his forehead. “You’re not this person. They’ve brainwashed you.”

“Be quiet,” she snapped, scowling at him. 

Something thudded across the room and her head snapped around. Keeping the gun on Mick, she moved across main room to one of the desks, pulling the chair away to find Thomas huddled underneath. He looked up at her with fear, reaching down to grab him.

“Nana Mary!” the boy shrieked and she froze, staring at him, like a robot stuck on a command. “Nana Mary, it’s me, Thomas!” he pleaded and she still didn’t move. Mick slid to his left, completely unnoticed. “We went to the arcade and we bought ice cream because you bet I couldn’t beat my high score and I did!”

She was blinking now, her pupils expanding and shrinking as the knowledge of this boy warred with the lies she’d been poisoned with. 

Mick picked up his gun, knocking Mary out with one hit and Thomas screamed. “Hey, come on, kid,” he urged, leaning down and picking Thomas up. “She’s not your grandma right now.” The argument nothing to the boy, who struggled to stay, until he noticed Ketch was no longer on the floor.

He went still, eyes wide with fright. Mick looked around, seeing what Thomas saw, concern making his blood run cold.

“We’re gonna to your dad’s car, alright?” Thomas nodded, deciding this fate was better than the man with the cross tattoo finding him. “How fast can you run?” Mick asked and Thomas stared up at him.

“Real fast, sir,” he replied politely and Mick grinned.

“Try and keep up, okay?” Mick turned, checking the bullets in his gun quickly and deciding to hope he didn’t have to use it. Taking Thomas’ hand, he started to move across the room, just as the bright lights went out and the emergency lighting came on, bathing everything in an eerie red. Panic seized him and he pushed Thomas ahead. “Run. Keep going straight. Don’t stop and don’t look back until you are in your father’s car with the door locked, you got it?”

“Got it,” Thomas confirmed, turning instantly and taking off at a run. He wasn’t lying about being fast and Mick made sure he was a fair distance away before looking back and coming face to face with Ketch, his mouth bloodied and his smile disturbing.

“You really think he’s going to get away?” Ketch leered and Mick lurched back, holding the gun up. The taller man laughed loudly, shaking his head. “I don’t know how you made it through Kendricks, Mr Davies.”

His shoulders squared as he prepared to charge, when something lunged at him from the side. Ketch flew into the wall with a grunt and a thud, sinking to the ground and rolling his head to see who had attacked him.

Bared teeth and blue eyes greeted him, both Winchesters in the room, looking more like animals than men. Sam took the lead, naturally and Ketch groaned as he tried to sit up, finding at least three broken ribs when he probed his side. 

“Armed guards don’t come cheap,” he commented dryly.

Castiel appeared next to him, angel blade pressed to his throat. “I would watch your words,” the celestial entity warned. “They’re not feeling quite themselves right now.”

Ketch knew exactly how many guards he’d posted and for a moment, death seemed preferable to the amount of paperwork he would probably have to do if he survived. Not that surviving was entirely likely, judging by the looks of the two feral Alphas in front of him.

May as well go out with a bang.

“Have you found her yet?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, feeling blood dribble down his chin. “She’s quite a sweet Omega, you know. The scent of her…” Ketch let out a guttural moan and Dean’s nostrils flared. “Irresistible.”

Sam growled, taking a step forward. His eyes flickered to Cas. “Get Y/N to the car. Make sure Thomas is okay.” His voice was rough but Castiel nodded, looking over at Mick.

“You might not want to stick around for this,” he warned, then disappeared into thin air. Mick watched for a second as Dean and Sam approached Ketch, and decided that the angel was probably right.


	40. Chapter 40

Mary opened her eyes, groaning at the pounding ache in her temple. Slowly, she sat up, finding herself in the backseat of the Impala, voices talking a few feet away.

“- gonna find a motel, get Thomas settled. You’re sure Mary will wake up without… without knowing what happened?”

“She will,” came a gruff reply that she recognized as Castiel. Looking out of the window, she saw you sat on the floor by the side of the driver’s door. “Mary,” the angel saw, turning his head to look at her and she frowned.

“What happened?” Mary asked, opening the door, clutching her head. “I feel like I was hit by a train.”

You smiled up at her. “Hey, Mary.” The older woman looked down at you, seeing Thomas curled in your lap, a blanket Mary remembered from the bunker. “A train, huh?”

“Where -” Mary looked around, suddenly realizing that she had no idea where she was. Her frown turned to panic. “Someone pushed me off the road!” she stated, panic sliding right on into rage. “There was some blonde woman, I remember her from before and then... “ The memories were there but not there and Mary struggled for a moment before giving up.

“You were kidnapped,” you replied, smothering your guilt. “The British Men Of Letters took you weeks ago. Used you to lure me in and I was stupid enough to get caught, with Thomas.” You looked down at your son, cradled in your lap and knew you were going to have to tell him to lie to her.

It was a guilt you didn’t feel you’d ever shed.

“Is he okay?” Mary asked, her concern for her grandson overtaking everything else. “Where are the boys?”

You looked back down towards the bunker. “Taking care of business.” Mary swallowed, following her gaze. In the distance, there were gunshots and then the soft orange glow of a fire. A man emerged from the shadows, holding his hands up when Castiel stepped forward, angel blade drawn.

“Friend!” Mick Davies shouted and you frowned at him, unsure who he was. “I’m a friend!”

The commotion woke Thomas and he sat up, seeing his uncle moving swiftly towards the remaining Brit. “No, Uncle Cas!” he yelled and the angel froze, inches from impaling the man. “He helped me. He got me out.”

“Kid, you did that yourself. Smooth job with the knife,” Mick congratulated and you looked at Thomas, seeing twin spots of red on his cheeks.

“I didn’t even notice you take it,” you commented, cupping his face. “You’re not in trouble. One of your dads might be though.”

Castiel sheathed his blade, grunting in annoyance as something exploded in the distance. “May I suggest a motel then?” he asked, tilting his head. “You take the car and I will bring Sam and Dean to you when they have… calmed down.”

You briefly thought a second room might be a good idea.

Mick held up a credit card. “What about a hotel instead?” he grinned. “I’m the only one left so it’ll be a while before the head office finds out about this and I’d quite like to become fugitive in a grand fashion.” He looked at you, still smiling. “Wouldn’t you?”

Mary laughed and elbowed your arm and you slowly smiled too. “Okay. I’m game.”

*****

The nearest hotel was a few miles south and only took twenty minutes to drive to. Castiel remained behind and you promised to text him when you arrived safely. Mick booked into their most expensive suite, which wasn’t luxury at three stars but he was happy enough with it.

When you pulled him aside and asked for a second room, he nodded, making the changes to the booking. Mary helped you get a very tired Thomas up the stairs and the boy moaned the entire way, wanting his bedroom, his bed, and his comforter.

He was too exhausted to keep it up and fell asleep as soon as you placed him on the queen-sized bed. Mary sat next to him and Mick secured the room, telling you both to relax. It was past one am and Castiel still hadn’t even texted her back.

“They’re gonna be okay, Y/N,” Mary soothed, tucking herself in behind Thomas who curled into the warmth of his grandma. “Why don’t you go next door and get the blood off of you? The scent will only make you more anxious.”

You nodded, eyes landing on your son, reluctant to leave him but knowing what was going to happen when your Alphas returned. Mary smiled.

“He’s safe with me,” she assured you, not even knowing it was her fault that this was happening. Nodding, you glanced at Mick who gave you a shaky smile and tipped his head. Deciding it was okay, that Mary was right, you turned, moving through the adjoining door.

The shower was hot and had a wonderful high pressure that sank right into the knots of your muscles and you hiccuped a sob at the past day or so. Everything had seemed too good, you should have known something would come along. Winchesters were cursed.

Washing the grime off, you tried not to think about the baby inside you, growing fast, heading straight for a life of misery with you as it’s bad luck charm. Was this any life for a child? Even the minor things Thomas knew and saw… he’d stabbed someone through the hand with a knife.

How could you be so selfish?

It would have been better if you’d never woken up.

The water ran brown and red, down through your toes and swirling into the drain. You stared at it, losing moments until you were shivering under the spray, fingers wrinkled and pink.

Turning the water off, you walked into the main bedroom, a towel wrapped around your middle, not expecting to see Dean and Sam waiting for you in the other room. They were suspiciously clean, dressed in only their t-shirt, pants and socks.

“What happened?” you asked, standing out of reach.

Sam’s eyes glinted. “Ketch is dead,” he snarled. “All of them are dead.” Dean grinned wolfishly and a shudder ran through your body. “You okay?” Sam grunted and you nodded. “Good.”

They approached you in sync and the towel was no obstacle to them. Each Alpha picked a side, Sam at the front and Dean at the back, their hands wandering and cocks pressing against the seams of their pants. You moaned into Sam’s mouth, feeling Dean’s lips on the nape of your neck.

It was an urgent, desperate need for each other that drove you, letting them pull you towards the bed, laying you nude across the plush mattress. Dean slid between your thighs, wasting no time in stroking his tongue over your folds and Sam groped and teased your breasts.

You moaned as they touched you wherever they could reach, reclaiming every inch of your skin. When Dean got impatient, he dragged you down the bed, hauling you into his lap and baring his teeth at Sam. There wasn’t a challenge between them and Sam climbed onto the bed, kneeling behind you. Sliding a hand between your thighs, Dean sought out your soaked hole, pushing two fingers into you. Sam nipped at your throat, copying his brother's actions, both of them fingering you, pinning you between their hard bodies.

The orgasm hit you hard, forcing a pitiful cry from your lips but they didn’t stop, pushing you harder and harder until you squirted on their fingers. Both brothers moaned in approval withdrawing and letting you flop on the mattress as they started to strip their clothes.

You lifted your leg obediently when Sam laid behind you, Dean in front. Their thick curved cocks were weeping precum and you spread your pussy lips, whining needily. “We got you, ‘mega,” Sam murmured, both Alphas pressing into you at the same time.

It was almost too much but you still wanted more. As they pushed into you slowly, letting your body accommodate two Alpha lengths in your cunt at the same time, you thought you might lose your mind. Sam was moving faster than Dean, his flared cockhead pressing into your cervix before your eldest brother did.

For a while, all three of you laid there, breathing heavily, sharing lazy kisses until your body greedily demanded the friction of their movements. Dean started first, Sam picking up an equal pace, both of them filling you over and over until you were shuddering and begging in broken words for their knots.

Your pussy was sloppy from the previous climaxes and their pre-cum and Sam groaned as his cock came free, catching on your asshole. The tip barely penetrated you but it was enough to make you groan deeply and Sam snarled back, dragging his teeth across your shoulder.

“Want me in your ass, ‘mega?” he asked and you managed to nod as you were struggling to breathe. Dean chuckled, mouthing at your throat, feeling your body tense as Sam lined himself up, using only your slick for lube, and then pushed in to the hilt. He emitted a deep hum as your ass swallowed his cock, barely giving you time to adjust.

Dean was fucking you hard now, his knot swelling. He growled against your throat, pressing his teeth a little harder each time. “Tell me how this feels, Y/N,” Dean pleaded.

“Good,” you gasped, feeling him catch on your slick hole. “Please, need… need…”

“What do you need?” Sam ground out and you shrieked as he slammed into your ass again.

“Need your knots,” you whimpered, leaning back against him. “Please!”

Both of them snarled, obeying your wish, fucking you hard enough to slam the headboard against the wall. On the other side, someone banged and yelled for you to keep it down but you couldn’t hear over the sound of your own pleasured wails.

Dean came first, his knot popping inside you, pumping you full of thick Alpha cum. The intensified pressure on Sam’s cock tipped him over the edge and you weren’t sure if it was a new orgasm or one really long one as his knot filled your ass, shortly followed by the warmth of his cum filling your belly.

You didn’t fight the pull of sleep on your tired muscles. Dean and Sam nuzzled into you, their heart rates slowing gently, the urgency of their movements done with now they had you safe and unharmed with them.

*****

“So you think you can convince your entire organization from trying this shit again?” Dean demanded, leaning on the table as Mick read the paper and chewed on a piece of bacon. “You sure you’re not just lying to save your hide?”

Mick chuckled. “Oh, I’m saving my hide. But keeping it out of the United States. If I didn’t think they’d hunt me down and kill me, I’d run, but I think it’s a better idea for everyone if I tell them that the US is off limits.”

You sat across from them, perched on the window seat, looking out over the hotel grounds. “I think this might be the nicest place I ever stayed,” you commented as Thomas lifted a piece of bacon.

“This is definitely the best bacon we ever had,” he said, mouth full and crunching bacon. Dean frowned at him.

“What’s wrong with my bacon?”

“Nothing,” Thomas responded instantly, guilt on his face and you smiled. “When are we going home?”

Sam crouched beside him, tucking a strand hair behind his ear. “Whenever you’re ready, buddy.”

“And the bad guys won’t come again?” he asked and Sam glanced at Dean, knowing it wasn’t as easy as that. Thomas put his piece of bacon down, looking at his dad earnestly. “I mean these bad guys. I know the bad guys don’t ever stop and that’s why you have to fight them.” He said it so matter-of-factly that your heart ached. Sam didn’t reply to that, leaning in to kiss his son’s forehead before standing straight.

Mary piped up quietly. “I’d like to come home too,” she said meekly. “I know you boys are mad at me for leaving -”

“No,” Sam said softly shaking his head and for a second you thought he was rejecting his mother. “We’re not mad. We understand.” He looked at Dean, who nodded reluctantly. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”

“And good again,” Thomas added and you groaned, dropping your head into your hands. Mary frowned, tilting her head and Mick grimaced. The boy looked up, eyes wide as he noticed the tense silence. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Not wrong,” Mary corrected him, smiling and patting his shoulder. “Just think your parents have a few things to fill me in on.” She leveled you with a look that said you weren’t getting out of telling her the truth and you swallowed nervously.

Dean fixed his eyes on Mick, returning to the subject at hand. “You’re on the next flight back.”

“You got it,” Mick replied.

“And we never hear from any of you again.’

“Absolutely,” the Brit said, nodding emphatically.

Sam rubbed his hands together. “Then we’re done it.” Thomas picked up his last bit of bacon, eager to get home and you stood, following behind only to be stopped by Mary.

“You and me are talking,” she hissed, flicking her gaze to make sure the boys were out of earshot. “I haven’t forgotten what you told me at the arcade.” You paled and nodded, scurrying away from her and catching up with your Alphas.

 

 


	41. Chapter 41

The bunker was a welcome sight after days of thinking you’d not live out the night. While the immediate danger was over, you knew that reprieve wouldn’t last - Lucifer was still out there. If everything went to plan with Mick’s idea, then the British Men Of Letters wouldn’t bother you again.

There wasn’t any conversation as you headed straight for your room once Thomas was safely in his. Mary took up her old bedroom, bidding you a quiet goodnight before disappearing. Dean and Sam followed you but you didn’t wait, stripping off your filthy clothes and crawling into the middle of your nest-like bed.

They curled around you, finding you already asleep and settled in.

It was ten hours later when you finally stirred, feeling sick to your stomach. Scrambling from between the two slowly waking Alphas, you bolted out of the room in your underwear, only just making it to the bathroom before you threw up every last thing you’d eaten the previous day.

Dean reached the bathroom first, Sam just behind him, both of them wearing identical frowns. “Are you okay?” Sam asked, dropping to his knees and pulling your hair out of your eyes. Luckily, you’d managed to get your aim spot on but you didn’t dare move your head now, in case you were sick again.

“She doesn’t look okay.”

“It’s fine,” you grumbled, voice echoing in the toilet bowl. “It’s just morning sickness.”

Both men blinked, shock draining their faces of color. “M-morning sickness?” Dean stuttered.

You raised weak jazz hands at them, grinning with lidded eyes. “Surprise!” you said lamely, dropping your forehead as you puked again.

A few hours later, showered, clean and nibbling on dry toast in the hopes you wouldn’t vomit again, you were facing both your brothers in the kitchen. Thomas sat drinking a milkshake, watching like it was some entertaining drama, as Mary leaned against the kitchen counter.

“So, Toni Bevell brainwashed mom into helping them?” Dean clarified and you nodded, swallowing your mouthful. “And she knew you were pregnant?” Of course, he’d focus on that.

“It wasn’t my place to tell you,” Mary interjected, folding her arms over her chest. “And in all fairness, Castiel knew first.”

Sam and Dean looked at you as your eyes widened. “He told me!” you defended, hugging your shoulders into your body. “I know the timing sucks and we should have been careful. I’m sorry.” Thomas slurped noisily at the bottom of his milkshake and you glanced at him. He raised his eyebrows, dropping the straw from his mouth.

“Sorry,” he murmured, swinging his legs under the table. “When can we find out if it’s a boy or a girl? I hope it’s a boy. Girls are annoying.” There was a pause before he looked at his grandmother and then back to you. “Except you. You’re not annoying.”

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Girls aren’t annoying, short stack,” he said, looking over at you. “I don’t know when we can find out though.” The question was clear; he was asking you not when, but _if_.

And it wasn’t a question you’d even considered. There was no _if_ for you.

“About twenty weeks, I think,” Sam murmured and you locked eyes with him, seeing that there’d never been an _if_ for him either. Dean smiled, nodding. “Kinda hoping it _is_ a girl,” he added and Thomas pulled a face. “What?”

“Girls like dolls and princesses,” Thomas complained.

“You like Tangled!” you exclaimed and Dean laughed under his breath, freezing when you pointed at him. “ _You_ know all the words.” It was Sam’s turn to laugh and you felt a warmth blossom in your chest. Despite the harrowing torture of the last few days and the impending problems with the literal devil, this moment felt like…

Normalcy.

“So we can get a scan soon right?” Sam asked, reaching across the table to take your hand. You nodded, squeezing his fingers. “And we’ll come with you?”

“Of course,” you whispered, “I want you both there for everything. We didn’t get this the first time around. I don’t want to miss anything.”

*****

Ella-May Winchester was born on the 13th March 2017 at Lebanon General Hospital. She was 5lbs and fourteen ounces, with ten perfect fingers, ten perfect toes and a thatch of dark hair. When she opened her eyes, they were green, just like her father’s.

Where Thomas was the spitting image of Sam, Ella-May was Dean’s little mini-me.

Sam was camera-happy, insisting on photos even when you felt, and probably looked, like shit. But you smiled, unable to hide the tiredness, letting him take as many photos as he wanted. Dean avoided the camera and that meant Thomas was roped in, catching his Pops at moments he thought he was alone.

Your screensaver on your phone was a picture of him with Ella cradled in the crook of his huge arm, her tiny body curled into itself as she snoozed happily.

The few happy weeks at home came to an end when they found out Lucifer was possessing the president. Castiel informed them that a Nephilim had come into being and the boys had to leave. Mary went with them, leaving you and Thomas with Jody as school started again.

For two weeks, you didn’t hear anything except the odd text. Worry set in when they stopped too. No one knew anything.

By four weeks, you were tearing your hair out and lying to Thomas that they were okay.

It was a bright Tuesday morning and you had Ella in a sling against your chest, her tiny thumb between her lips as she slept. Thomas was getting onto the school bus and your phone started to ring. You answered as you waved your son off.

“Hello?”

_“Hey,”_ Jody greeted cheerfully, _“I’m bringing home bagels for breakfast. Any preference?”_

“Cream cheese,” you replied, turning back towards the house, checking the mail before you went in. Three letters for Alex, one for Jody and one for you. You plucked it from the box, tucking it in with the others.

Jody hung up after saying she’d be home soon and you went back inside, getting on with your chores while Ella-May slept quietly, nestled against your chest. She was a little bit clingy, always wanting to be held and it wasn’t unusual for her to spend an entire day strapped to someone.

A familiar loud engine rumbling down the street made you look up and you frowned, walking towards the door to see Sam and Dean heading up the drive, filthy dirty and battered but not seriously hurt. Ella stirred at your movement to fling the door open, excitement at seeing them home, and whole, making your heart pound.

“Is he…?” you let the question hang.

“It’s done. He’s gone.” Dean hung his head in relief and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. The smile on Sam’s face told you everything you needed to know. “Sam got it done.”

Mindful of Ella in her sling, you rushed forward, letting them envelop you in their arms. Instantly, the baby began to fuss and Sam was there, scooping her out of the material and cradling her closely. You saw the Impala across the road, Mary stood by it. “Is everything okay?” you asked, concern flooding.

“Sort of?” Dean offered hesitantly.

“Sort of?” you repeated, blinking. “What’s going on?”

Sam turned, waving a hand at his mom and she opened the rear door of the car, a young man climbing out. Mary stood by his side and you frowned, looking at each brother for an explanation.

“His name is Jack. He is Lucifer’s son,” Castiel announced, appearing beside you and making you jump. He tipped his head in apology and you scowled before Sam distracted you.

“We’re gonna help him,” Sam said, handing Ella to Dean, who cooed and held her up, making the baby giggle happily. “He’s scared but he’s a good kid.” He leaned in, kissing your forehead. “We’re not exactly in a position to judge who someone is based on their father.”

You nodded, snagging the back of his neck with your hand, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. “I missed you,” you whispered.

“Me too,” Sam replied, smiling widely. “You’re okay with this?” You nodded in agreement and released him, just as Dean nudged his brother out of the way, holding Ella-May against his shoulder as he bent to kiss you. You touched his face, smiling when the baby stuck out one chubby hand to mimic your action, slapping her palm over Dean’s eye.

“She missed you too,” you said, turning your attention to your daughter, who shoved her entire fist in her mouth and drooled.

Sam chuckled at the baby’s face. “She definitely looks like him now,” he commented and Dean promptly stuck his tongue out.

Jack approached carefully, his eyes focused on Ella-May as she cooed and slobbered on herself. She was barely two months old, still tiny and as the Nephilim boy watched her, you felt a little on edge. Dean relinquished his hold when you took her from him and held her firmly, not caring when she slapped her wet palm on your chest.

“Hi, Jack,” you greeted, smiling at the kid. “I’m Y/N.” You looked at Ella, bouncing her a little. “This is Ella-May.”

“Hi,” Jack replied, waving. He seemed warm and friendly and you didn’t feel any threat from him whatsoever. Ella suddenly launched herself backward, catching you by surprise, meeting Jack’s hands before any harm could come to her. She giggled and squealed and Jack laughed.

“God I wish she’d stop doing that,” you complained, trusting the baby’s happy noises as Jack lifted her into his skinny arms. “She likes you.”

“She is very contented,” Jack said, looking into Ella’s face. The tiny girl grabbed his nose, digging her fingers in and tugging. His voice came out nasally when he spoke again. “And so full of love. It’s amazing.” You glanced at Dean and Sam, who both shrugged.

Castiel noticed your confusion and smiled. “He can sense emotions. And Ella is a very happy baby.”

Making a small “o” with your lips, you stepped back, happy to let Jack carry Ella into the house. “So, house guest.”

“House guest,” Dean confirmed, not sounding entirely happy but more than likely because even with two bathrooms, the bunker would start getting crowded. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“At least Thomas will be happy. He gets a brother after all,” Castiel commented and Sam raised an eyebrow when you laughed.

“I guess he will be.”

Leaving Jack in the living room with baby Ella and Castiel to watch over them, you led both your Alphas into the kitchen, Mary with them. “Where’s his mom?” you asked, frowning.

“She died,” Mary said quietly. “Nephilim births don’t end well apparently.”

“I thought he was going to be a baby!” You turned, placing one hand on your forehead. “But he’s not dangerous?”

“Not if he’s taught to control his powers,” Sam insisted but Dean looked skeptical and the younger of the two men rolled his eyes. “Dean thinks he’s a time-bomb.” Dean opened his mouth to argue but you shook your head.

“I’m not getting in between you two again,” you growled, holding a hand up to stop them arguing. “Thomas has two weeks of school left. You take Jack, go back to the bunker and make sure he’s safe before I bring the kids back.” Dean’s face fell and Sam scowled, not happy with the idea but it appeared Mary had your back.

“She’s right. You can’t take a risk like this.”

Dean sighed. “Is two weeks enough?”

You shrugged. “You can make that call. Anything that happens is on your head.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen,” Sam grumbled and you turned away, picking up the post and finding the letter you’d been sent. Ripping the envelope open, you unfolded the letter, barely paying attention as Sam and Dean started to argue about what they were going to do.

The words seemed jumbled on the page for a moment and your heart thumped hard when you recognized the handwriting. It was smudged, the date unreadable. “Guys,” you whispered, not getting any attention from them. “GUYS,” you repeated, loudly and they stopped, looking at you.

Both Dean and Sam froze, watching you as you held up the letter.

“This is from Mick Davies.” You stretched your arm out, handing it to Dean, who scanned it and then passed it to Sam, who read aloud.

> _Dear Miss Winchester,_
> 
> _I hope this letter finds you in good health. As a matter of precaution, I have mailed this to your residential address with Ms Mills._
> 
> _I’m pleased to inform you that my board of directors has accepted your proposal. The Lebanon bunker is now the officially recognized headquarters of the newly reformed American chapter of the Men Of Letters. Resources will be available to you and further details are enroute with regards to financial assistance._
> 
> _I hope this is accepted as a reasonable progression to our working relationship. There is a cheque enclosed for immediate set up._
> 
> _Yours Faithfully_
> 
> _Mick Davies_
> 
> _Senior Agent_
> 
> _British Men Of Letters_

Silence fell over the room as you peered in the envelope and found a check that you’d missed, unfolding it and gasping at the amount. Mary moved across the floor, looking over your shoulder and making a similar noise.

“I guess we can quit coming up with fake credit card names,” Mary whispered and you nodded, not objecting when Dean took the check from you.

“Holy shit,” he exclaimed and Sam snatched it, frowning. “Dude, why the long face?”

“Feels like blood money,” Sam muttered. “Dean, we…”

You crossed the room, reaching up to cup his face. “Sam, the only people that died in that place were people who knew it was the risk. They had done horrible things, trust me.” He shook his head, your words not doing anything to make him feel better. “Alpha, please,” you whispered, pushing up onto tiptoes.

Dean sighed, turning away, leaving you alone and Mary followed. Sam surrounded you with his arms, holding you close and dropping his head to your shoulder, even though it was a stretch. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his mouth tracing over his mark on your throat, seeking out comfort. “It’s been a rough few weeks.”

“Still skeptical of your happy ending, Sam?” you asked, pulling back a little. “It’s okay to believe things are gonna be okay.”

“We’ve seen a light at the end of the tunnel so many times, Y/N,” he confessed, his eyes searching yours. “Now, we’ve got a chance to build something, there’s no one after us. There’s a future…”

“And?” you pushed, using your fingers to hook his hair behind his ears. Sam’s lips stretched into a mirthless smile.

“There’s a chance it’s a train, too.”

You sighed, kissing him softly. “Maybe.” You cupped his face again, drawing him into a deep kiss, moaning against him. “Or maybe we should believe that after everything, we deserve this.” His smile faltered, his eyes closing as he leaned his forehead against yours, holding you close.

“Yeah. Yeah, we do.”


End file.
